\ 


^ 


SITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


Gift  of 
H.L.  Colestock 


.0^- 


THE 


PRINCIPLES  OF  RIIETOPJC 


BY 


ADAMS   SHERMAN   HILL 

BOYLSTON   PROFESSOR  OF  RHETORIC   AND  ORATORY 
IN    HARVARD    COLLEGE 


IRew  EMtion 

REVISED  AND  ENLARGED 


i  3       J       ^      J  --J  .        >        ,'    , 

NEW  YORK  •:•  CINCINNATI  •:•  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN     BOOK     COMPANY 


Copyright,  1878,  by  Adams  Sherman  Hill. 


Copyright,  1895,  by  Adams  Sherman  Hill. 


All  righttt  reserved. 


W.  P.  I. 


•  •• 

•  •  • 


•  C       «    I     i 

t   «  <  t   <         *■ 


•  •   »      »   c  « 


/-f  S'6'p 


A^am  ipsum  latine  loqui,  est  illud  qvidcm,  ut  paullo  ante 
dixi,  in  magna  laude  ponendum;  sed  non  tam  sua  sponte, 
quam  quod  est  a  plerisque  neglectum:  non  enim  tam  praedarum 
est  scire  latine,  quam  turpe  nescire ;  neque  tam  id  mihi  oratoris 
boniy  quam  civis  romani  proprium  videtur. 

CicEKo:  Brutus,  xxxvii. 


:>98i?l>5 


PREFACE. 


For  the  purposes  of  this  treatise,  Ehetoric  may  be 
defined  as  the  art  of  efficient  communication  by  lan- 
guage. It  is  not  one  of  several  arts  out  of  which  a 
choice  may  be  made;  it  is  the  art  to  the  principles  of 
which,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  a  good  writer  or 
speaker  must  conform. 

It  is  an  art,  not  a  science :  for  it  neither  observes, 
nor  discovers,  nor  classifies ;  but  it  shows  how  to  convey 
from  one  mind  to  another  the  results  of  observation,  dis- 
covery, or  classification ;  it  uses  knowledge,  not  as 
knowledge,  but  as  power. 

Logic  simply  teaches  the  right  use  of  reason,  and  may 
be  practised  by  the  solitary  inhabitant  of  a  desert  island ; 
but  Ehetoric,  being  the  art  of  communication  by  lan- 
guage, implies  the  presence,  in  fact  or  in  imagination,  of 
at  least  two  persons,  —  the  speaker  or  the  writer,  and  the 
person  spoken  to  or  written  to.  Aristotle  makes  the 
very  essence  of  Ehetoric  to  lie  in  the  distinct  recog- 
nition of  a  hearer.  Hence,  its  rules  are  not  absolute,  like 
those  of  logic,  but  relative  to  the  character  and  circum- 
stances of  the  person  or  persons  addressed ;  for  though 


Vi  PREFACE. 

truth   is   one,  and   correct    reasoning    must   always   be 
correct,  the  ways  of  communicating  truth  are  many. 

Being  the  art  of  communication  by  language,  Rhetoric 
applies  to  any  subject-matter  that  can  be  treated  in 
words,  but  has  no  subject-matter  peculiar  to  itself.  It 
does  not  undertake  to  furnish  a  person  with  something 
to  say ;  but  it  does  undertake  to  tell  him  how  best  to  say 
that  with  which  he  has  provided  himself.  "  Style,"  says 
Coleridge,  "is  the  art  of  conveying  the  meaning  appro- 
priately and  with  perspicuity,  whatever  that  meaning 
may  be ; "  but  some  meaning  there  must  be :  for,  "  in 
order  to  form  a  good  style,  the  primary  rule  and  con- 
dition is,  not  to  attempt  to  express  ourselves  in  language 
before  we  thoroughly  know  our  own  meaning." 

Part  I.  of  this  treatise  discusses  and  illustrates  the 
general  principles  which  apply  to  written  or  spoken  dis- 
course of  every  kind.  Part  II.  deals  with  those  princi- 
ples which  apply,  exclusively  or  especially,  to  .  .  .  [the 
several]  kinds  of  prose  writing  which  seem  to  require 
separate  treatment 

1878. 


While  engaged  in  revising  this  book,  I  have  seen  no 
occasion  to  modify  in  any  important  respect  what  was  said 
in  the  preface  to  the  first  edition.  I  still  believe  that  the 
function  of  rhetoric  is  not  to  provide  the  student  of  com- 
position with  materials  for  thought,  nor  yet  to  lead  him 
to  cultivate  style  for  style's  sake,  but  to  stimulate  and 
train  his  powers  of  expression,  —  to  enable  him  to  say 


PREFACE.  VU 

what  he  has  to  say  in  appropriate  language.  I  still 
believe  that  rhetoric  should  be  studied  at  school  and  in 
college,  not  as  a  science,  but  as  an  art  with  practical 
ends  in  view. 

By  supplying  deficiencies  that  time  has  disclosed, 
making  rough  places  smooth,  and  adapting  the  treatment 
of  each  topic  to  present  needs,  I  have  tried  to  make  the 
book  more  serviceable  to  advanced  students  of  English 
Composition.  From  Book  I.  of  Part  I.  some  elementary 
matters  have  been  omitted,  but  so  much  material  has 
been  added  that  the  total  number  of  pages  is  increased ; 
in  Book  11.  of  Part  I.  the  old  material  has  been  re- 
arranged and  new  material  has  been  introduced.  In  Part 
II.  still  greater  changes  have  been  made :  Description 
and  Narration,  which  were  originally  treated  together.. 
are  now  treated  in  separate  chapters  and  with  greater 
fulness ;  the  chapters  on  Argument  have  been  thrown 
into  one  and  entirely  rewritten;  and  a  chapter  on 
Exposition  has  been  added. 

For  valuable  assistance  in  the  revision  of  this  volume, 
I  am  indebted  to  Miss  E.  A.  Withey  and  Miss  A.  F. 
Kowe.  I  have  also  to  thank  several  of  my  colleagues 
for  contributions  of  various  kinds,  and  especially  Pro- 
fessor L.  B.  R  Briggs  and  Professor  G.  L.  Kittredge, 
through  whose  hands  the  proof-sheets  have  passed,  and 
by  whose  learning,  acumen,  and  unsparing  criticism  I 
have  greatly  profited. 

A.  S.   H, 

1895. 


CONTENTS. 


PAET  I. 

COMPOSITION  m   GENERAL. 

BOOK  I. 
GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

CHAP.  PAGS 

I.  Good  Use 1 

II.    Violations  of  Good  Use 25 

Section    I.    Barbarisms 25 

"       II.   Improprieties 37 

«     III.   Solecisms 48 

BOOK  II. 

RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

I.     Choice  of  Words 74 

Section    I.    Clearness 81 

«       II.   Force Ill 

"      III.   Ease 132 

II.  Number  of  Words 145 

Section    I.    Clearness 146 

"       II.    Force 150 

«     III.   Ease 175 


X  CONTENTS. 

CHAP.  PAG* 

TIL     Arrangement 177 

Section      I.   Clearness 177 

"         II.  Force 184 

"       III.    Ease 198 

«       IV.   Unity  ...                    208 

"         V.   Kinds  of  Sentences 216 

"       VI.   Paragraphs 230 

"     VII.   Whole  Compositions 239 


PAET   TI. 

KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Four  Kinds  Discriminated 247 

I.    Description 249 

Section  I.    Scientific  Description :^51 

"       n.   Artistic  Description 254 

n.    Narration 281 

Section    I.   Movement 285 

«       n.   Method  in  Movement 289 

III.  Exposition 300 

IV.  Argument 327 

Section     I.    Proposition  and  Proof 328 

"        II.    Evidence 334 

"       III.   Deduction  and  Induction    ....  341 

"       IV.    Antecedent  Probability,  Example,  Sign  354 

"        V.   Arrangement 379 

"       VT.   Persuasion 386 


INDEX 401 


THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  HHETORIC. 


Part  /.  —  COMPOSITION  IN  GENEEAL. 


BoOiT  Z.  —  GPvAMMATICAL    PUEITY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

GOOD   USE. 

The  foundations  of  rhetoric  rest  upon  grammar;  for 
grammatical  purity  is  a  requisite  of  good  writing. 

Though  it  may  be  no  merit  to  know  the  proper  use  of 
our  native  tongue,  not  to  know  it  is  a  positive  importance  of 

-  .        ,  ,  •       J 1  c  correctness  in 

dement,  —  a  demerit  the  greater  in  those  oi  us  the  use  of  lan- 
who  have  had  the  advantages  of  education. 
To  know  is  comparatively  easy  ;  but  to  have  our  knowl- 
edge always  ready  for  use,  to  apply  it  in  every  sentence 
we  frame,  whether  we  have  time  to  be  careful  or  not,  is 
far  from  easy.  Not  even  eminent  speakers  or  writers, 
not  even  those  who  readily  detect  in  others  errors  in 
grammar,  are  themselves  free  from  similar  faults, — 
such  faults  at  least  as  may  be  committed,  through 
inadvertence,  in  the  hurry  of  speech  or  of  composi- 
tion. "A  distinguished  British  scholar  of  the  last  cen- 
tury said  he  had  known  but  three  of  his  countrymen 
who   spoke  their   native   language  with  uniform  gram- 


2  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

matical  accuracy,  and  the  observation  of  most  persons 
widely  acquainted  with  English  and  American  society 
confirms  the  general  truth  implied  in  this  declaration."^ 

Grammatical  purity  is,  then,  the  first  requisite  of  dis- 
course, whether  spoken  or  written.  Whatever  is  ad- 
dressed to  English-speaking  people  should  be  in  the 
Grammatical  Euglish  tougue :  it  (1)  should  contain  none 
purity  defied,  ^^j.  £^^1^3^  words  and  phrases,  (2)  should 
employ  these  words  and  phrases  in  their  English  mean- 
ings, and  (3)  should  combine  them  according  to  the 
English  idiom. 

What,  now,  determines  whether  a  given  expression  is 
English  ? 

Evidently,  the  answer  to  this  question  is  not  to  be 
sought  in  inquiiies  concerning  the  origin,  the  history, 
raise  tests  of  01"  the  tendencies  of  the  language.  However 
good  English,  interesting  in  themselves,  however  success- 
fully prosecuted,  such  investigations  are  of  little  prac- 
tical value  in  a  study  which  has  to  do,  not  with  words  as 
they  have  been  or  might  have  been  or  may  be,  but  with 
words  as  they>are;  not  with  the  English  of  yesterday  or 
with  that  of  to-morrow,  still  less  with  a  theorist's  ideal 
English,  but  with  the  English  of  to-day. 

In  the  English  of  to-day,  one  word  is  not  preferred  to 
another  because  it  is  derived  from  this  or  from  that 
source ;  the  present  meaning  of  a  word  is  not  fixed  by 
its  etymology,  nor  its  inflection  by  the  inflection  of  other 
words  with  which  it  may,  for  some  purposes,  be  classed. 
Athletics  (from  the  Greek),  farina  (from  the  Latin), 
Jlour  (from  the  Latin  through  the  French),  mutton  (from 
the  French),  gas  (a  term  invented  by  a  chemist  2),  are  as 

1  George  P.  Marsh :  Lectures  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  v. 
'  Van  Heluaont,  a  iUemiug  (born  in  1577^. 


GOOD  USE.  3 

good  words  as  games,  meal,  sheep,  fire.  Properly  used, 
vianufacture  is  as  good  a  word  as  handiwork,  •purple  as 
red,  prairie  as  meadow,  magnificent  as  great,  inurmur  as 
huzz,  manual  as  handy,  existence  as  being,  convention  as 
meeting,  terminus  as  end.  Though  a  vast  majority  of 
nouns  form  the  plural  in  s,  the  plural  of  ox  is  still  oxen, 
and  that  of  mouse  is  still  mice  ;  though  we  no  longer  say, 
"A  bee  stang  John,"  we  do  say,  "  The  bird  sang  ;  "  though 
its  has  been  in  use  only  three  centuries,  it  is  as  much  a 
part  of  the  language  as  his  or  her,  and  one  can  only  smile 
at  a  recent  writer's  hostility  to  this  "  unlucky,  new-fangled 
word."  1 

"  There  is,"  says  Ldndor,  "  a  fastidiousness  in  the  use 
of  language  that  indicates  an  atrophy  of  mind.  We  must 
take  words  as  the  world  presents  them  to  us,  pastidi- 
without  looking  at  the  root.  If  we  grubbed  °"''"^®*- 
under  this  and  laid  it  bare,  we  should  leave  no  room  for 
our  thoughts  to  lie  evenly,  and  every  expression  would 
be  constrained  and  crampt.  We  should  scarcely  find  a 
metaphor  in  the  purest  author  that  is  not  false  or  imper- 
fect, nor  could  we  imagine  one  ourselves  that  would  not 
be  stiff  and  frigid.  Take  now,  for  instance,  a  phrase  in 
common  use.  You  are  rather  late.  Can  anything  seem 
plainer  ?  Yet  rather,  as  you  know,  meant  originally  earlier, 
being  the  comparative  of  rathe:  the  'rathe  primrose'  of 
the  poet  recalls  it.  We  cannot  say,  You  are  sooner  late  ; 
but  who  is  so  troublesome  and  silly  as  to  question  the 
propriety  of  saying,  You  are  rather  late  ?  We  likewise 
say,  had  orthography  and  false  orthography :  how  can 
there  be  false  or  bad   o'ight-spclling  ? "  ^ 

1  T.  L.  Kington  Oliphant :  The  Sources  of  Standard  English,  chap  v. 

2  Walter  Savage  Laudor :   Conversations,  Third  Series;  Johnson  and 
Home  (Tooke). 


4  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

The  fastidiousness  that  objects  to  well-established 
words  because  their  appearance  "  proclaims  their  vile 
and  despicable  origin,"  ^  or  to  well-understood  phrases 
because  they  "  contain  some  word  that  is  never  used 
except  as  a  part  of  the  phrase,"  ^  or  to  idiomatic  ex- 
pressions because,  "when  analyzed  grammatically,  they 
include  a  solecism,"  ^  —  the  fastidiousness,  in  short,  that 
would  sacrifice  to  the  proprieties  of  language  expressions 
that  give  life  to  our  daily  speech  and  vigor  to  the  best 
writing,  indicates  "  an  atrophy  of  mind  "  akin  to  that  of 
which  Landor  speaks. 

Pell-mell,  topsy-turvy,  helter-skelter,  hurly-hurly ^  hocus- 
focus,  hodge-podge,  harum-scarum,  namby-pamby,  willy- 
nilly,  shilly-shally,  higgledy-piggledy,  dilly-dally,  hurry- 
scurry,  carry  their  meaning  instantaneously  to  every 
mind.  Examples  of  their  effective  use  may  be  found 
in  the  very  best  authors :  — 

"  Then  what  a  hurly-lurly !  what  a  crowding  I  what  a  glare  of  a 
thousand  flambeaux  in  the  square  !  "  2 

"  This  shifting  of  persons  could  not  be  done  without  the  hocvS' 
pocus  of  abstraction."  ^ 

'*  And  then  draw  close  together  and  read  the  motto  (that  old 
namby-pamby  motto,  so  stale  and  so  new  I)  —  "* 

"  And  then  there  were  apple  pies,  and  peach  pies,  and  pumpkin 
pies;  besides  slices  of  ham  and  smoked  beef  ;  and  moreover  delect- 
able dishes  of  preserved  plums,  and  peaches,  and  pears,  and  quinces ; 
not  to  mention  broiled  shad  and  roasted  chickens  ;  together  with 
bowls  of  milk  and  cream,  all  mingled  higgledy-piggledy,  pretty  much 
as  I  have  enumerated  them,  with  the  motherly  tea-pot  sending  up 
its  clouds  of  vapor  from  the  midst  —  Heaven  bless  the  mark  I  "  * 

1  George  Campbell :  The  Philosophy  of  Rlietoric,  book  ii.  chap.  iL 

2  Burke :  Letters  on  a  Regicide  Peace,  letter  iv. 

•  Ibid.,  letter  i. 

*  Thackeray  :  The  Virginians,  chap.  Ix. 

'  Irving :  The  Sketch  Book  ;  The  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow, 


GOOD  USK  B 

*  "On  the  sea  and  at  the  Hogue,  sixteen  hundred  ninety-two. 

Did  the  English  fight  the  French,  —  woe  to  France ! 
And  the  thirty-first  of  May,  helter-skelter  through  the  blue, 

Like  a  crowd  of  frightened  porpoises  a  shoal  of  sharks  pursue, 
Came  crowding  ship  on  ship  to  St.  Malo  on  the  Kance, 

With  the  English  fleet  in  view."  ^ 

"  Go  to  Paris ;  rank  on  rank 

Search  the  heroes  flung  pell-mell 
On  the  Louvre,  face  and  flank: 
You  shall  look  long  enough  ere  you  come  to  Herve  Kiel."* 

The  italicized  words  in  "by  diiit  of,"  "as  lief"  "to  and 
fro"  " not  a  vMt"  " kith  and  kin,"  " hue  and  cry,"  " spick 
and  span  new,"  "tit  for  tat"  are,  by  themselves,  obsolete 
in  the  sense  they  bear  in  the  phrases  quoted ;  but  the 
phrases  are  universally  understood,  and  there  is  no  more 
reason  for  challenging  the  words  that  compose  them  than 
there  is  for  challenging  a  syllable  in  a  word. 

A  similar  remark  may  be  made  about  idioms,  —  modes 
of  expres~sion  peculiar  to  the  language,  or  to  the  group 
of  languages,  in  which  they  occur.    Idiomatic 

°       ®  •'  .  Idioms. 

expressions,  though  composed  of  words  difficult 

to  "  parse,"  may  be  older  than  parsing  and  still  in  good 

repute.     Such  expressions  give  life  to  style. 

On  this  ground,  had  rather  and  had  better"^  are  quite 
as  good  English  as  would  rather  and  might  better:  — 

"  I  hod  rather  be  a  doorkeeper  in  the  house  of  my  God,  than  to 
dwell  in  the  tents  of  wickedness."  * 

"  I  had  rather  be  a  dog,  and  bay  the  moon. 
Than  such  a  Roman,"* 

1  Kobert  Browning  :  Herve  l?iel. 

'  For  a  discussion  of  these  locutions,  see  an  exhaustive  article  (by  Fitz- 
edward  Hall)  in  "  The  American  Journal  of  riiilology,"  vol.  ii.  no.  7,  pp 
281-322. 

*  Psalm  Ixxxiv.  10. 

*  Sbakspere :  Julius  Csesar,  act  It.  scene  liL 


6  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

"  If  you  do  not  speak  in  that  manner,  you  had  much  better  not 
speak  at  all  "  ^ 

"  A  reader  who  wants  an  amusing  account  of  the  United  States 
had  heller  go  to  JVli's.  Trollops,  coai'se  and  malignant  as  she  is. 
A  reader  who  wants  information  about  American  politics,  man- 
ners, and  literature  had  better  go  even  to  so  poor  a  creature  as 
Buckingham."  2 

Another  familiar  idiom  is  shown  in  the  expression, 
"  Please  hand  me  that  book,"  for  "  May  it  please  you  to," 
etc.  The  more  formal  expression  still  survives  in  "  May 
it  please  your  Honor." 

The  perfect  and  pluperfect  tenses  of  the  verb  le  are 
used  idiomatically  with  to  and  a  substantive  or  an  infin- 
itive of  purpose.  For  example :  "  Have  you  been  to  the 
theatre  ? "     "  He  had  been  to  see  Irving  that  night." 

Other  idiomatic  expressions  are,  —  viany  a,  as  in 

"  Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen," 

never  so  good,  would  God,  whether  or  no^  either  at  the  end 
of  a  negative  sentence,  as  in  "  I  can't  go,  either." 

Still  another  idiom,  which  is  objected  to  in  England, 
it  is  said,  but  which  is  universal  in  the  United  States, 
consists  in  the  use  of  do,  and  especially  of  do  not,  with 
have,  in  such  expressions  as  "America  does  not  have  a 
monopoly  of  bad  English,"  "  He  did  not  have  much 
appetite." 

Some  idioms  are  relics  of  what  was  once  ordinary 
usage.  The  origin  of  others  has  not  yet  been  discovered, 
but  the  more  the  language  is  studied,  the  more  light  is 
shed  upon  the  history  of  expressions  which  do  not  now 
carry  their  meaning  on  the  face  of  them,  as  they  once 

1  Lord  Chesterfield :  Letter  to  his  son,  July  9,  0.  S  ,  1750. 

2  Macaulay ;  in  'J  revelyan's  "  Life  and  Letters  of  Macaulaj,"  vol.  iL 
chap.  ix. 

8  See  "  The  Saturday  Review,"  Dec.  1,  1888,  p.  641. 


GOOD  USE.  7 

did.  Dance  attendance,  scrape  acquaintance,  curry  favor, 
however  difficult  to  understand  word  by  word,  are  easy 
to  understand  as  phrases.  As  phrases,  they  are  facts  in 
language: — 

"  Welcome,  my  lord  :  I  dance  attendance  here ; 
I  think  the  duke  will  nut  be  spoke  withal."  ^ 

/  "Politicians  who,  in  1807,  sought  to  curry  favour  with  George 
the  Third  by  degrading  Caroline  of  Brunswick,  were  not  ashamed, 
in  1820,  to  curry  favour  with  George  the  Fourth  by  persecuting 
her."  2 

In  the  use  of  language  there  is  only  one  sound  princi- 
ple of  judgment.     If  to  be  understood  is,  as  it  should  be,  a 

writer's  first  obiect,  his  language  must  be  such  The  tme  test 

1  1  °^  good  Eug- 

as  his  readers  understand,  and  understand  as  lish. 
he  understands  it.  If  he  is  so  fond  of  antiquity  as  to 
prefer  a  word  that  has  not  been  in  use  since  the  twelfth 
or  the  seventeenth  century  to  one  only  fifty  or  twenty 
years  old  but  in  good  repute  to-day,  he  is  in  danger  of 
being  shelved  with  his  adopted  contemporaries;  if  he  is 
so  greedy  of  novelty  as  to  snatch  at  the  words  of  a 
season,  few  of  which  survive  the  occasion  that  gives 
them  birth,  his  work  is  likely  to  be  as  short-lived  as 
they.  If,  being  a  scholar,  he  uses  Latinisms  or  Galli- 
cisms known  only  to  scholars  like  himself;  if,  being  a 
lawyer  or  a  physician,  he  uses  legal  or  medical  jargon ;  or 
if,  living  in  Yorkshire  or  in  Arkansas,  he  writes  in  the 
dialect  of  Yorkshire  or  in  that  of  Arkansas,  — he  will  be 
understood  by  those  who  belong  to  his  class  or  to  his  sec- 
tion of  country,  but  he  may  be  unintelligible,  as  well  as 
distasteful,  to  the  general  public.  By  avoiding  pedantry 
and  vulgarity  alike,  a  writer,  while  commending  himself 

^  Shakspere:   Richard  III.,  act  iii.  scene  vii. 
^  Macaulay:   History  cf  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  v. 


8  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

to  the  best  class  of  readers,  loses  nothing  in  the  estima- 
tion of  any  other  class ;  for  those  who  do  not  themselves 
speak  or  write  pure  English  understand  it  when  spoken 
or  written  by  others. 

The  reasons,  in  short,  which  prevent  an  English  author 
irom  publishing  a  treatise  in  Greek,  Celtic,  or  French,  or 
in  a  dialect  peculiar  to  a  place  or  to  a  class,  prohibit  him 
from  employing  an  English  expression  that  is  not  favored 
by  the  great  body  of  cultivated  men  in  English-speaking 
countries,  an  expression  not  sanctioned  by  good  use, — 
that  is,  by  Present,  National,  and  Reputahle  use :  present, 
as  opposed  to  obsolete  or  ephemeral ;  national,  as  opposed 
to  local,  professional,  or  foreign ;  reputable,  as  opposed 
to  vulgar  or  affected. 

Present  use  is  determined  neither  by  authors  who 
wrote  so  long  ago  that  their  diction  has  become  anti- 
quated, nor  by  those  whose  reputation  as  good 

Present  use.      ^  '  n        ^  i  i  •    J      i         -kt 

writers  is  not  firmly  established.  Not  even 
the  authority  of  Shakspere,  of  Milton,  or  of  Johnson, 
though  supported  by  the  uniform  practice  of  his  contem- 
poraries, justifies  an  expression  that  has  been  long  dis- 
used ;  nor  does  the  adoption  by  many  newspapers  of  a 
new  word,  or  of  an  old  word  in  a  new  sense,  make  it  a 
part  of  the  language.  In  both  cases,  time  is  the  court 
of  last  resort;  and  the  decisions  of  this  court  are  made 
known  through  writers  of  national  reputation. 

The  exact  boundaries  of  present  use  cannot,  however, 
be  fixed  with  precision.  Dr.  Campbell,  writing  in  the 
middle  of  the  last  century,  held  that  a  word  which  liad 
not  appeared  in  any  book  written  since  1688,  or  which 
was  to  be  found  in  the  works  of  living  authors  only, 
should  not  be  deemed  in  present  use ;  but  in  these  days 
of  change  words  go  and  come  more  rapidly.     Old  names 


GOOD  USE.  9 

disappear  with  old  things,  or  acquire  new  meanings  ;  new 
things  call  for  new  names,  and  the  new  names,  if  gener- 
ally accepted,  come  into  present  use.  Familiar  instances 
are  supplied  by  the  history  of  chivalry,  heraldry,  astrol- 
ogy, on  the  one  hand,  and  of  gas,  steam,  mining,  electricity, 
on  the  other. 

Sometimes  words  long  disused  are  recalled  to  life. 

"Reason  and  understanding,  as  words  denominative  of  distinct 
■^culties ;  the  adjectives  sensuous,  transcendental,  subjectice  and 
objective,  supernatural,  as  an  appellation  of  the  spiritual,  or  that 
immaterial  essence  which  is  not  subject  to  the  law  of  cause  and 
effect,  and  is  thus  distinguished  from  that  which  is  natural,  are 
ail  words  revived,  not  invented  by  the  school  of  Coleridge."  i 

Other  words  "revived,  not  invented,"  are  connotation,^  spiritual- 
ism, tennis,  plaisance  (which  is  the  old  word  pleasance)  in  "  Midway 
Plaisance ;  "  but  each  of  these  is  used  in  a  sense  different  from  that 
which  it  originally  bore. 

Words  way  be  in  present  use  in  poetry  which  are 
obsolete,  or  almost  obsolete,  in  prose. 

Such  worda  ar©:  ere,  anon,  nigh,  save  (except),  beticixt,  scarce 
and  exceeding  (scarcely,  exceedingly),  erst,  fain,  whilom,  withal, 
hath,  yore,  quoth,  kine,  don,  doff,  nay,  yea,  ever  or  alway  (always), 
mine,  as  in  ^'■mine  host." 

Mrs.  Browning  may  write  twain  and  corse,  where  prose  would 
write  "two"  and  "corpse;"  Tennyson  may  write  rampire  and 
shoon,  where  prose  would  write  "rampart"  and  "  shoes,"  just  as 
he  may  call  the  sky  "  the  steadfast  blue."  ' 

Words  that  are  obsolete  for  one  kind  of  prose  may 
not  be  obsolete  for  another.  In  an  historical  novel,  for 
example,  archaic  expressions  may  be  introduced  if  they 
are  characteristic  of  the  time  in  which  the  scene  is  laid; 

*  Marsh  :  Lectures  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  viiu 

2  J.  S.  Mill :  A  S\stem  of  Logic,  book  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  v. 

'  A  Dream  of  Fair  Women. 
1* 


10  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

but  they  should  not  be  so  many  as  to  render  the  work  un- 
intelligible or  distasteful  to  ordinary  readers.  All  that 
may  properly  be  done  is  to  suggest  antiquity.  In  Thack- 
eray's "  Henry  Esmond,"  for  example,  the  use  of  'tis  for 
"  it  is  "  (frequent  in  "  The  Spectator,"  but  rare  in  modern 
prose  ^)  helps  to  take  the  reader  back  to  Queen  Anne's  time 

In  all  cases,  "  the  question  is  not,  whether  a  diction  is  antiquated 
for  current  speech,  but  whether  it  is  antiquated  for  that  particular 
purpose  for  which  it  is  employed.  A  diction  that  is  antiquated  for 
common  speech  and  common  prose,  may  very  well  not  be  antiquated 
for  poetry  or  certain  special  kinds  of  prose.  '  Peradventure  there 
shall  be  ten  found  there,'  is  not  antiquated  for  Biblical  prose,  though 
for  conversation  or  for  a  newspaper  it  is  antiquated.  '  The  trum- 
pet spake  not  to  the  armed  throng,'  is  not  antiquated  for  poetry, 
although  we  should  not  write  in  a  letter,  '  he  spake  to  me,'  or  say, 
*  the  British  soldier  is  armed  with  the  Enfield  rifle.' "  * 

Some  words  may  be  regarded  as  applicants  for  admis- 
sion to  the  language,  but  as  not  yet  in  present  use. 
Such  words  are  allowable  in  conversation,  in  books  that 
reproduce  conversation,  and  in  writings  that  serve  a 
temporary  purpose. 

"I  certainly  should  not,  in  regular  history,"  writes  Macaulay, 
"use  some  of  he  phrases  which  you  censure.  But  I  do  not  con- 
sider a  review  of  this  sort  as  regular  history,  and  I  really  think 
that,  from  the  highest  and  most  unquestionable  authority,  I  could 
vindicate  my  practice.  Take  Addison,  the  model  of  pure  and 
graceful  writing.  In  his  Spectators  I  find  'wench,'  'baggage,*  'queer 
old  put,'  'prig,'  'fearing  that  they  should  smoke  the  Knight.'  All 
these  expressions  T  met  this  morning,  in  turning  over  two  or  three 
of  his  papers  at  breakfast.  I  would  no  more  use  the  word  '  bore ' 
or  'awkward  squad'  in  a  composition  meant  to  be  uniformly  seri- 
ous and  earnest,  than  Addison  would  in  a  State  paper  have  called 

1  Used  frequently,  however,  by  Emerson. 

-  Matthew  Arnold :  Essays  in  Criticism ;  On  Translating  Homer, 
Last  Words. 


GOOD  USE.  11 

Louis  an  *  old  put,*  or  have  described  Shrewsbury  and  Argyle  as 
•  smoking  *  the  design  to  bring  in  the  Pretender.  .  .  .  The  first  rule 
of  all  writing  —  that  rule  to  which  every  other  is  subordinate  —  is 
that  the  words  used  by  the  writer  shall  be  such  as  most  fully  and 
precisely  convey  his  meaning  to  the  great  body  of  his  readers. 
All  considerations  about  the  purity  and  dignity  of  style  ought  to 
bend  to  this  consideration.  To  write  what  is  not  understood  in  its 
full  force  for  fear  of  using  some  word  which  was  unknown  to  Swift 
or  Dryden  would  be,  1  think,  as  absurd  as  to  build  an  observatory 
like  that  at  Oxford,  from  which  it  is  impossible  to  observe,  only  for 
the  purpose  of  exactly  preserving  the  proportions  of  the  Temple  of 
the  Winds  at  Athens.  That  a  word  which  is  appropriate  to  a  par- 
ticular idea,  which  everybody,  high  and  low,  uses  to  express  that 
idea,  and  which  expresses  that  idea  with  a  completeness  which  is 
not  equalled  by  any  other  single  word,  and  scarcely  by  any  cir- 
cumlocution, should  be  banished  from  writing,  seems  to  be  a  mere 
throwing-away  of  power.  Such  a  word  as  ',  talented '  it  is  proper 
to  avoid :  first,  because  it  is  not  wanted ;  secondly,  because  you 
never  hear  it  from  those  who  speak  very  good  English.^  But  the 
word  '  shirk '  as  applied  to  military  duty  is  a  word  which  everybody 
uses ;  which  is  the  word,  and  the  only  word,  for  the  thing ;  which 
in  every  regiment  and  in  every  ship  belonging  to  our  country  is 
employed  ten  times  a  day;  which  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  or 
Admiral  Stopford,  would  use  in  reprimanding  an  officer.  To  in- 
terdict it,  therefore,  in  what  is  meant  to  be  familiar,  and  almost 
jocose,  narrative,  seems  to  me  rather  rigid."  ^ 

National  use  is  fixed  by  speakers  and  writers  of 
national  reputation.  That  reputation  they  could  not 
possess  if   they  were   readily  understood  by 

^  "^  •'  ''      National  use. 

the    inhabitants   of    only  one  district  or  the 
members  of  only  one  class.     Using  language  intelligible 
in  every  district  and  to  every  class,  they  keep  the  com- 
mon   fund   of  expression  in   general  circulation.      Even 

^  Were  Macanlay  alive  to-day,  he  would  probably  no  longer  object  to 
"talented,"  for  the  word  is  now  sanctioned  by  good  nse. 

2  Macaulay ;  in  Trevelyan's  "  Life  and  Letters  of  Macaulay,"  vol.  IL 
chap.  ix. 


12  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

in  matters  of  pronunciation  and  accent,  the  standard 
though  difficult  to  find,  can  be  found  in  the  concurrent 
practice  of  the  most  approved  poets  and  public  speakers 
and   of  the  most  cultivated  social  circles. 

Among  provincialisms  are :  shay  (chaise) ;  li7ies  (reins)  ;  India- 
rubbers  or  (jums  (over-shoes)  ;  vest  (waistcoat) ;  slice  (fire-shovel) ; 
grip  (cable-car)  ;  (jrip  or  grip-sack  (hand-bag)  ;  folks  (family)  ;  creek 
(small  inland  stream) ;  truck  (garden  produce)  ;  The  Stales  (The 
United  States) ;  elective,  optional,  special,  as  nouns ;  carnjius,  for- 
merly campo  (college  or  school  yard  or  grounds)  ;  boomers,  sooneis ; 
smart,  as  used  in  a  smart  distance,  a  smart  chance,  a  smart  boy,  a 
smart  f/own,  the  smai-t  set;  bourjhten,  as  distinguished  from  "home- 
made ;  "  proven  (proved)  ;  shew  (showed)  ;  to  reckon,  calculate,  guess, 
when  used  to  express  opinion,  expectation,  or  intention;  to  allow 
(admit,  maintain)  ;  to  rag  (steal)  ;  to  rag  at  (rail  at) ;  to  he  through 
(finish)  ;  to  hitch  up  (harness) ;  to  flit,  flitting  (move  or  remove, 
moving  or  removing)  ;  to  hail  from,  as,  "  He  hails  from  Arkansas;  " 
to  fetch  up  (bring  up,  as  a  child);  to  admire,  as,  "I  should  admire 
to  see;"  "I  disremember ; "  "I'll  be  back  to  rights"  (presently); 
right  off,  right  away  (immediately);  "It  rains  right  (very)  hard;" 
right  here  (at  this  point). 

Instances  of  expressions  that  have  come  from  professional  into 
more  or  less  general  but  not  into  good  use,  are  the  following : 
from  the  law,  aforesaid  or  said,  as,  "  the  said  man,"  on  the  docket, 
entail  (involve),  /Ind  now  comes,  at  the  beginning  of  a  paragraph, 
/  claim  (maintain);  from  the  church,  sponsor,  as,  "This  article 
needs  no  sponsors,"  on  the  anxious  seat,  to  pass  under  the  rod,  advent, 
neophyte ;  from  trade,  to  discount,  the  balance,  as,  "  The  balance  of  the 
day  was  given  to  talk,"  in  his  line,  A  No.  1 ,  from  the  Congressional 
dialect,  to  champion  (support)  a  measure,  to  antagonize,  —  two  meas- 
ures contending  for  precedence  in  the  order  of  legislation  are  said 
to  antagonize  each  other,  a  senator  is  said  to  antagonize  (oppose)  a 
bill  or  another  senator;  from  malhematics,  to  differentiate  (make  a 
difference  between),  mimis,  as,  "  Come,  minus  your  children ;  "  from 
a  school  in  political  economy,  ivage  and  tvagefund  (wages,  w^ages- 
fund) ;  from  the  stock-market,  to  appreciate  and  to  depreciate  (rise 
in  value,  fall  in  value),  to  aggregate,  as,  "  The  sales  aggregated  fifty 
thousand  shares,"  to  take  stock  in,  above  par;  from  mining,  to  pan 


GOOD  USE.  13 

out,  to  get  doiL'n  to  bed-rock  or  In  hard  pan,  to  strike  a  bonanza  or  to 
strike  oil  (succeed),  these  digfjinijs  (this  section)  ;  from  the  dialect 
of  the  race-course,  fit  (in  good  physical  condition). 

In  the  opinion  of  many  Englishmen  and  of  some 
Anglomaniacs  in  America,  every  expression  which  is  in 
national  use  in  America  but  not  in  national   British  aud 

American 

use  at  the  present  time  in  England  is  a  pro-  "sage. 
vincialism.  To  this  assertion  it  is  no  answer  to  say  — 
what  is  no  doubt  true  —  that  many  so-called  American- 
isms were  in  good  use  in  England  in  the  time  of  Chaucer, 
of  Milton,  or  of  Fielding.  This  argument  would  justify 
many  expressions  which  are  now  vulgarisms,  as  axe 
for  "  ask,"  ham  for  "  teach,"  you  ivas  for  "  you  were." 
The  real  question  is,  Are  the  United  States  —  so  far  as 
language  is  concerned  —  still  provinces  of  England,  or  do 
they  constitute  a  nation  ? 

The  true  doctrine  appears  to  be  that  expressed  by  the 
late  Edward  A.  Freeman,  whose  opinion  on  this  point  is 
valuable  because  he  was  an  Englishman  of  Englishmen. 
After  discussing  several  cases  in  which  usage  differs  in  the 
two  countries,  Mr.  Freeman  goes  on  to  say :  "  One  way  is 
for  the  most  part  as  good  as  the  other ;  let  each  side  of  the 
ocean  stick  to  its  own  way,  if  only  to  keep  up  those  little 
picturesque  differences  which  are  really  a  gain  when  the 
substance  is  essentially  the  same.  This  same  line  of 
thought  might  be  carried  out  in  a  crowd  of  phrases,  old 
and  new,  in  which  British  and  American  usage  differs, 
but  in  which  neither  usage  can  be  said  to  be  in  itself 
better  or  worse  than  the  other.  Each  usage  is  the  better 
in  the  land  in  which  it  has  grown  up  of  itself.  A  good 
British  writer  and  a  good  American  writer  will  write  in 
the  same  language  and  the  same  dialect;  but  it  is  well 
that  each  should  keep   to   those  little   peculiarities   of 


14  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

established  and  reasonable  local  usage  which  will  show 
on  which  side  of  the  ocean  he  writes."  ^ 

Writers  who  maintain  that  there  is,  or  is  soon  to  be, 
an  American  language  radically  different  from  the  Eng- 
lish, have  never  succeeded  in  bringing  any  considerable 
body  of  evidence  to  support  their  view.  They  usually  rely 
on  a  few  hackneyed  expressions  which  are  no  doubt 
peculiar  to  America,  or  on  words  and  phrases  which,  so 
far  from  being  in  good  use  in  America,  are  confined  either 
to  certain  parts  of  the  country  or  to  certain  classes  and 
are  avoided  by  the  best  writers  of  the  United  States 
no  less  than  by  those  of  England.  They  fail  to  note 
the  possibility  that,  with  increasing  facilities  of  inter- 
course between  the  two  countries,  "  those  little  pictu- 
resque differences "  of  which  Mr.  Freeman  speaks  may 
become  fewer  and  fewer. 

In  some  cases  the  British  term  is  coming  into  use  in  America, 
and  in  a  few  cases  the  Anieiican  term  is  coming  into  use  in  Eng- 
land. In  the  United  States,  cab  is  now  often  used  for  hack,  draio- 
inrj-rooin  for  parlor,  braces  for  suspenders,  biscuit  for  cracker,  shop  for 
store,  post  for  mail,  underdone  for  rare,  railway  for  railroad.  In 
England,  trunk  is  often  used  for  box,  baggage  sometimes  for  luggage. 

Some  words  that  originated  in  the  United  States  have  been 
carried  into  England,  with  or  without  that  which  they  name.  For 
example:  caucus,  gerrymander,  co-education,  lengthy,  sleigh,  blizzard, 
transom  (for  transom  window) ;  the  names  of  some  drinks,  as  sherry 
cobbler,  mint  Julep ;  and  words  of  Indian  origin,  as  squaw,  moccasin, 
wigwam. 

Some  words  are  peculiar  to  England  or  to  America.  Among 
those  peculiar  to  England  are :  hustings,  whip  (a  Parliament  officer), 
board-school,  cheapjack,  hawker,  green-grocer,  costermonger,  haber^ 
dasher,  barrister,  navvy.  Among  those  peculiar  to  America  are: 
State-house,  to  lobby,  lobbying,  lobbyist,  sophomore,  cookie,  doughnut, 
cruller,   carryall,    Tierdie,  Jish-flakes    (for   drying    codfish),    trapper.^ 

1  Longmau's  Magazine,  November,  1882,  p.  9Q, 


GOOD  USE.  15 

schooner,  stampede,  sidewalk,  lumber  (cut  timber),  lumberer  or  lum- 
berman, lumber-ynrd. 

Among  the  expressions  as  to  which  national  use  in  England 
differs  from  that  in  America  are :  — 

British.  American. 

beetroot beet. 

vegetable  marrow squash. 

maize corn. 

corn  1 grain  (oats,  wheat,  etc.). 

chemist druggist. 

draper's  shop dry  goods  store. 

shopman clerk  or  saleswoman. 

carriage  (railway) car. 

goods-train freight-train. 

luggage-van baggage-car. 

booking-clerk ticket-agent. 

guard conductor. 

to  shunt to  switch. 

stoke-hole fire-room. 

tram .  street-car. 

portage carry. 

lift elevator. 

reel  or  bobbin spool. 

tap faucet. 

jug pitcher. 

chest  of  drawers bureau. 

beetle bug.'^ 

That  a  book  purporting  to  be  English  should  not  be 
half  French  or  half  German  is  obvious;  but  there  are  cases 
in  which  a  foreign  word  is  justifiable.  In  this  Foreign  words 
matter  no  hard  and-fast  rule  can  be  laid  down.  *°  p^-^^es- 
It  is  too  much  to  say  that  national  use  prohibits  every 
foreign  word  or  phrase  for  which  there  is  an  English 
equivalent;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  such  words 
should  be  used  sparingly.  Sometimes  good  taste  chooses 
a  foreign  word,  when  the  word  is  likely  to  be  understood 

1  As  in  "  The  Corn  Laws." 

3  As  in  "  The  Gold  Bug,"  by  E.  A.  Poe. 


16  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

by  the  great  body  of  readers,  but  often  it  is  bad  taste 
that  makes  the  choice.  One  writer  who  lias  but  a  small 
stock  of  French  is  eager  to  air  his  little  all ;  another 
hopes  to  "  enrich  "  or  "  elevate  "  her  style  by  overloading 
it  with  imported  ornament,  —  some  genuine,  some  pinch- 
beck ;  another  caters  to  vulgar  readers  who  prefer  second- 
rate  French  to  first-rate  English.  A  writer  who  has 
mastered  his  business  will  follow  the  laws  of  good  sense 
and  good  taste  ;  a  writer  who  is  still  learning  his  busi- 
ness will  be  wise  if  he  decides  every  doubtful  case  in  favor 
of  his  mother  tongue. 


'o^ 


The  following  are  instances  of  foreign  expressions  to  which 
Eiiglisli  equivalents  are  preferable:  nee  (born,  as  "Casaubon,  born 
Brooke  "  "),  on  the  lapis  '^carpet),  coup  de  suleil  (sunstroke),  vial  de 
mer  (seasickness),  tvoUoir  (sidewalk),  morceau  (piece),  e'liieule  (riot), 
fracas  (brawl),  abalioir  (slaughter-house), yeMo:  d^arli/ice  (fireworks), 
de'pot  (station),  r/ainin  (street  boy,  street  Arab),  cheialier  dUndus- 
trie  (adventurer),  has  bleu  (blue-stocking),  al  fresco  (veranda)  chairs, 
kutlos  (glory),  ad  libilum  (at  pleasure),  ad  infinitum  (indefinitely), 
in  extenso  (at  full  length),  in  extremis  (at  the  point  of  death),  pari 
passu  (with  equal  pace,  abreast),  rara  avis  (a  prodigy).* 

Eeputable  use  is  fixed,  not  by  the  practice  of  those 

whom  A  or  B  deems  the  best  speakers  or  writers,  but  by 

the  practice  of  those  whom  the  world  deems 

Beputable  use.  ^ 

the  best,  —  those  who  are  in  the  best  repute, 
not  indeed  as  to  thought,  but  as  to  expression,  the  manner 
of  communicating  thought.  The  practice  of  no  one  writer, 
however  high  he  may  stand  in  the  public  estimation,  is 
enough  to  settle  a  point ;  but  the  uniform  or  nearly  uni- 
form practice  of  reputable  speakers  or  writers  is  decisive. 
Their  aim  being  to  communicate  fully  and  promptly  what 

'  George  Eliot :   Middlemarch. 

*  For  other  examples,  see  "  The  Foundations  of  Rhetoric,"  pp.  181-186. 


GOOD  USE.  17 

they  have  to  say,  they  choose  the  words  best  adapted  to 
that  purpose ;  and  their  choice,  in  its  turn,  gives  author- 
ity to  the  words  that  they  adopt. 

Most  words  which  are  in  both  present  and  national  use 
are  in  reputable  use  also  ;  but  there  are  words  which, 
though  in  more  or  less  good  colloquial  use  in  all  parts 
of  the  country,  have  not  yet  received  the  sanction  of 
the  best  speakers  and  writers.  Such  words  cannot  be 
regarded  as  in  reputable  use. 

Among  common  expressions  not  in  reputable  use  are :  hard 
up,  on  tick,  on  the  go,  in  bad  form,  in  the  swim,  bogus,  brainy, 
bully  or  crack  (excellent),  Ownplivus,  climaled  (acclimated),  cunning 
(piquant  or  pretty),  cule,  fetching  (taking,  attractive),  finicky,  fresh 
(verdant  and  pvesmmng),  funny  (strange),  shaky,  swagger  and  swell 
(as  adjectives),  swingeing  (huge),  well-posted  (well-informed),  ugly 
(ill-tempered),  boodle,  a  new  dodge,  drummer  (commercial  traveller), 
gumption,  plunder  (baggage),  sleeper  (sleeping-car),  to  bulldoze,  to 
catch  on  (catch  the  meaning), /o  hustle  (act  energetically),  a  hustler, 
to  run  (manage),  to  tub  (bathe),  to  size  up,  to  skedaddle,  to  wire  or  to 
cable  (telegraph),  a  wire  or  a  cable  (telegram),  ilk  (kind,  class)  as, 
"  Tyler  and  others  of  that  ilk,"  "  Gov.  VVaite  and  his  ilL"  ^ 

These  principles  taken  for  granted,  it  follows  that 
grammarians  and  lexicographers  have  no  authority  not 
derived  from  "ood  use.     Their  business  is  to  Analogy  be- 

o  tween  law  and 

record   in  a  convenient  form  the  decision  of  language. 
every  case  as  to  which  recent  writers  or  speakers  of  na- 
tional reputation  agree ;  and  they  have  no  more  right  to 
question  the  correctness  of  a  decision  than  the  compiler 
of  a  digest  has  to  overrule  a  legislature  or  a  court. 

When,  however,  usage  is  divided,  when  two  forms  of 
expression    are  almost   equally  supported   by  authority, 

1  Ilk,  a  Scotch  word  meaning  "same,"  properly  used  in  "  Bradwardine 
of  that  ilk,"  that  is,  of  the  estate  of  the  same  name.  See  "  Waverley," 
vol.  ii.  chap.  xiv. 


18  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

there  is  room  for  argument,  as  there  is  when  legal  pre- 
cedents conflicl..  In  the  latter  case,  the  question  is  looked 
at  in  the  light  of  the  general  principles  of  law ;  in  the 
former  case,  the  question  may  be  looked  at  in  the  light 
of  the  general  principles  of  language.  In  each  case,  a 
.critic's  conclusion  is  an  expression  of  personal  opinion, 
not  an  authoritative  decision  :  it  binds  nobody,  and  it  is 
frequently  overruled. 

In  the  choice  between  two  expressions  equally  or 
almost  equally  in  good  use,  help  may  be  gained  from 
three  practical  rules,  —  rules  that  should  serve  not  as 
shackles  but  as  guides  to  the  judgment.  If,  as  some- 
times happens,  these  rules  conflict  with  one  another,  good 
sense  must  decide  between  them.  If,  as  sometimes  hap- 
pens, nothing  is  to  be  gained  by  observing  a  rule,  it  may 
be  neglected.  Regard,  in  short,  should  be  paid  not  to  the 
letter  but  to  the  spirit. 

I.  Of  two  forms  of  expression  which  may  be  used  in 
The  rule  of  the  samc  sense,  that  one  should  be  chosen 
precib.on.  wliich,  iu  the  case  in  hand,  is  susceptible  of 
but  one  interpretation.  Observance  of  this  rule  tends 
to  give  to  each  word  a  meaning  of  its  own. 

Acts,  in  the  sense  of  "things  done,"  is  preferable  to  actions, 
since  actions  also  means  "  processes  of  doing." 

Afhtiit,  in  cases  into  whidi  the  idea  of  confession  does  not  enter, 
is  preferahle  to  con/ess.  On  grounds  of  idiom,  however,  "  I  must 
confess  "  and  the  parenthetical  "I  confess"  are  exempt  from  the 
operation  of  tliis  rule. 

Airnre,  when  used  in  reference  to  objects  of  perception,  things 
outside  ourselves,  is  preferal)le  to  conscious,  since  conscious  strictly 
refers  to  sensations,  thoughts,  or  feelings, — things  within  our- 
selves. 

Denlhhi,  in  the  sen.se  of  "  resembling  death,"  as,  "  She  was  deathly 
pale,"  is  preferable  to  deadly,  since  deadly  also  means  "  inflicting 
death." 


GOOD  USE.  19 

Egotism,  in  the  sense  of  "self-worship,"  is  preferable  to  egoism,'^ 
since  egoism  also  designates  a  system  of  philosophy. 

Falsitg,  in  the  sense  of  "  non-conformity  to  truth,"  without  any 
suggestion  of  blame,  is  preferable  to  faUeness,  since  falseness  usU' 
ally  implies  blame. 

Limit,  in  the  sense  of  "  bound,"  narrative,  in  the  sense  of  "  that 
which  is  narrated,"  product,  in  the  sense  of  "  thing  produced," 
relative,  in  the  sense  of  "  member  of  a  family,"  are  preferable  to 
limilalion,  narration,  production,  relation,  since  each  of  these  is  also 
used  in  an  abstract  sense. 

Oral,  in  the  sense  of  "  in  spoken  words,"  is  preferable  to  verbal, 
since  verbal  means  "  in  words  "  whether  spoken  or  written. 

Partly,  in  the  sense  of  "  in  part,"  is  preferable  to  partially,  since 
partially  also  means  "  with  partiality." 

Pitiable,  in  the  sense  of  "  deserving  pity,"  is  preferable  to  pitiful, 
since  pitiful  also  means  "compassionate,"  as,  "The  Lord  is  very 
pitiful,  and  of  tender  mercy." 

The  verb  purpose,  in  the  sense  of  "intend,"  is  preferable  to  pro- 
po^f",  since  to  propose  also  means  "to  offer  for  consideration  :  "  the 
noun  answering  to  the  former  is  purpose ;  to  the  latter,  proposal  or 
jirnposition. 

Receipt,  in  the  sense  of  "formula  for  a  pudding,  etc.,"  is  pre- 
ferable to  recipe,  since  recipe  is  commonly  restricted  to  medical 
prescriptions. 

Speciality,  in  the  sense  of  "  distinctive  quality,"  is  preferable  to 
specially,  since  specialty  is  also  used  in  the  sense  of  "  distinctive 
thing." 

Stay,  as  in  "At  what  hotel  are  you  staying?"  is  preferable  to 
stop,  since  stop  also  means  "  to  stop  without  staying." 

Several  pairs  of  words  that  once  were  used  indiscriminately  are 
no  longer,  or  are  rarely,  so  used.  For  example :  admittance  and 
admission;  insurance  and  assurance;  sanatory  and  sanitary;  sewage 
and  sewerage. 

II.  Of  two  forms  of  expression  which  raay  be  used  in 
the   same  sense,  the    simpler   should  be  chosen.      One 

1  George  Eliot  uses  erjnism  in  the  sense  of  egotism,  and  Mr.  George 
Meredith  calk  one  of  his  novels  "  The  Egoist,"  his  meaning  being  "  The 
Egotist." 


20  GRAMMATICAL  TUEITT. 

reason  for  this  rule  is  that  the  simpler  a  word  or  a 
The  rule  of  phrase,  the  more  likely  it  is  to  be  understood, 
simplicity.  Another  reason  is  that  simplicity  in  language, 
like  simplicity  in  dress  or  in  manners,  belongs  to  the  best 
society. 

"We  say,"  wrote  Campbell  (in  1750),  "either  accept  or  accept 
of,  admit  or  admit  of,  approve  or  upproce  of;  in  like  manner  address 
or  address  to,  attain  or  attain  to.  In  such  instances  it  will  hold,  I 
suppose,  pretty  generally,  that  the  simpler  form  is  preferable.  This 
appears  particularly  in  the  passive  voice,  in  which  every  one  must 
see  the  difference.  '  His  present  was  accepted  of  by  his  friend  '  — 
'His  excuse  was  admitted  of  hy  his  master'  —  'The  magistrates 
were  addressed  to  by  the  townsmen,'  are  evidently  much  worse  than 
« His  present  was  accepted  by  his  friend  '  —  '  His  excuse  was  ad- 
mitted by  his  master'—  'The  magistrates  were  addressed  by  the 
townsmen.' "  ^ 

Some  of  the  expressions  quoted  above  are  no  longer  used ;  but 
compounds  as  objectionable  as  any  of  these  are  daily  multiplied 
without  necessity.  For  example :  curb  in,  examine  into,  insnire 
into,  clnmher  up  into,  ascend  up,  breed  up,  learn  up,  inix  up,  freshen 
up,  open  lip,  raise  up,  loirer  down,  soften  off,  brush  off  of  crave  for, 
bridge  ocer,  slur  o'-er,  follow  after,  trace  out,  connect  together.  In  all 
compounds  of  this  sort,  the  added  particle,  whenever  it  is  not 
needed  for  emphasis  or  for  euphony  or  to  complete  the  meaning, 
should  be  omitted,  since  it  is  always  superfluous  and  often  worse 
than  superfluous. 2 

"  House /or  sa/e  or  to  let"  is  preferable  to  "house  to  be  sold  or 
to  be  let,"  not  only  because  it  is  simpler,  but  also  because  it  is 
more  idiomatic.  For  similar  reasons,  the  active  form  in  -ing  is  in 
many  cases  preferable  to  the  passive  form  with  being,  —  "  corn  is 
selling"  to  is  being  sold,  "a  house  is  building"  to  is  being  built. 
When,  however,  the  active  form  is  ambiguous,  it  is  to  be  avoided : 
is  beating,  for  instance,  will  hardly  do  for  is  being  beaten.  Whence, 
thence,  and  hence  are   preferable  to  from  whence,  from  thence,  and 

1  Campbell-  The  Philosopy  of  Rhetoric,  book  ii.  chap,  ii 

2  For  additional  examples,  see  "  The  Fouadations  of  llhetoric,"  pp 
124,  125,  150,  151. 


GOOD   USE.  21 

from  hence.  Instead  of  is  preferable  to  in  lieu  of,  truer  to  mart 
true,  clearer  to  more  clear,  begin  to  commence,  raise  to  elevate,  read 
to  })eruse,  tell  to  relate,  choose  to  elect  or  select,  effect  to  effectuate, 
graduate  to  pust-graduale,  ar/riculturist  to  agriculluralist,  aristocratic 
to  aristocratical,  democratic  to  democratical,  characteristic  to  charac- 
terislical^     To  is  usually  preferable  to  un^o,  round  to  around. 

It  will  be  noticed  that  in  almost  all  the  foregoing  ex- 
amples the  siuipler  expression  is  also  the  shorter.  As  a 
rule,  the  shorter  of  two  expressions  equally  in  good  use 
should  be  chosen,  both  because  it  is  shorter  and  because 
it  is  usually  simpler  also. 

III.    Of  two  forms  of  expression  which  may  be  used  in 
the   same   sense,  that  one  should   be   chosen  Themieof 
which  is  the  more  agreeable  to  the  ear.  ^"^  °"^' 

Under  this  rule,  Dr.  Campbell  expressed  (in  1750)  his  prefer- 
ence for  delicacy,  authenticity,  and  vindictive,  over  delicaleness,  au- 
thenticalness,  and  vindicative,  —  decisions  which  have  been  sustained 
by  time.  Aversion  has  sujiplanted  aver.^eness  :  artijiciality,  artijicial- 
ness ;  scarcity,  scarceness.  Among  and  while  have  almost  supplanted 
amongst  and  whilst.  Under  this  rule,  such  words  as  eleganiness, 
annuhleness,  mcrcinariness,  practicaUeness,  are  to  be  avoided. 

As  between  forward  and  fonrards,  backward  and  backwards, 
toward  and  towards,  home.ioard  and  homewards,  the  ear  naturally 
chooses  the  form  that  is  the  more  agreeable  in  the  context.  For 
example :  — 

"The  ploughman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way."* 

The  principle  of  euphony  has  perhaps  a  greater  influ- 
ence upon  the  language  than  some  grammarians  admit. 
Not  infrequently  it  override 5  other  principles. 

Notwithstanding  Rule  I  ,^  euphony  prohibits  dailily,  gndllly, 
heavenlily,  lowlily,  and  the   like,  preferring  the  inconvenience  of 

1  Lander:  Conversations,  Third  Serie?;  Southey  and  Person. 

2  Thomas  Gray :  Elegy  written  in  a  Country  Churchyard. 
«  See  page  18. 


22  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

having  but  one  form  (daily,  godly,  heavenly,  lowly)  for  both  adjec- 
tive and  adverb  to  the  repetition  of  the  sound  of  -ly.  Though 
besides  in  the  sense  of  "  other  than  "  or  "  in  additiou  to  "  is,  under 
Rule  I.,  preferable  to  beside,  since  beside  is  also  used  in  the  sense 
of  "  by  the  side  of,"  the  latter  form  is  sometimes  —  especially  in 
poetry  —  chosen  on  grounds  of  euphony. 

Brevity,  too,  may  be  sacrificed  to  euphony.  With  di/jicully  is 
preferable  to  diffi.cuUly  ;  *  icithoul  rebuke  to  uivebukedhj  ;  willioul  pre- 
cedent to  unprecedenledly ;  as  an  accessory  to  accessorUy ;  more  pa- 
thelic,  more  forward,  to  palhelicker,'^  forwarder ;  ^  most  honest,  beautiful, 
pinui,  dista}it,  delicate,  to  honestest,  beaut  if ullest,*  piousest,  distantesl,* 
delicatest;*  most  unquestionahle,  cirtuous,  indispensable,  generous,  to 
unquestionablest,^  virtuousest,^  indispensablest,^  generousest  ;^  and  the 
same  principle  holds  with  many  dissyllabic  and  with  most  poly- 
syllabic adjectives. 

It  is,  of  course,  wrong  to  give  undue  weight  to  con- 
siderations of  euphony,  —  to  sacrifice  sense  to  sound, 
strength  to  melody,  compactness  to  pleasant  verbosity  ; 
but  when  no  such  sacrifice  is  involved,  it  is  desirable  to 
avoid  an  expression  unusually  difficult  to  pronounce,  or 
to  substitute  for  an  extremely  disagreeable  word  one  that 
is  agreeable  to  the  ear. 

Valuable  as  these  rules  are  in  determining  the  choice 
between  two  forms  of  speech  equally  favored  by  good  use, 
helpful  as  they  may  be  in  keeping  both  archaisms  and 
Good  use  vulgarisms  out  of  the  language,  there  can  be 
supreme.  ^^  appeal  to  them  in  a  case  once  decided.     In 

sucli  a  case,  the  protests  of  scholars  and  tlie  dogmatism 
of  lexicographers  are  equally  unavailing.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Milton,  "  in  a  treatise  in  which  he  flings  about  him 
such  forms  as  '  aff'atuated '  and  'imbastardized '  and 
'proditory '  and  '  robustious,' "  took  exception  "  to  the  new- 

1  Bentham  condemns  words  that  he  calls  "  difficultly  pronounceable." 

2  A mericau  newspaper.  8  xhe  [London]  Spectator. 
*  Ruskin.                         '  Carlyle.  ^  Thackeray. 


GOOD  USE.  23 

fancied  word  'demagogue';"^  that  Swift  fought  against 
the  words  mob,  banter,  reconnoitre,  ambassador  ;  that  Dr. 
Johnson  roared  at  clever,  fun,  nowadays,  punch  ;  that 
Dr.  Campbell  lost  his  temper  over  dancing/  attendance, 
'pell-mell,  as  lief,  ifjnore,  subject-matter;  that  Bishop 
Lowth  insisted  that  sitten  —  though,  as  he  admitted, 
"  almost  wholly  disused "  —  was,  on  the  principle  of 
analogy,  the  only  correct  form  for  the  past  participle  of 
•"  to  sit ; "  that  Landor  wished  to  spell  as  Milton  did, 
objected  to  antique  and  to  this  (in  place  of  these)  means, 
declared  "  -passenger  and  messenger  coarse  and  barbarous 
for  passagcr  and  messagcr,  and  nothing  the  better  for 
having  been  adopted  into  polite  society,"  ^  and  said  that 
to  talk  about  a  man  of  talent  was  to  talk  "  like  a  fool  ;"^ 
that  Coleridge  insisted  on  using  or  with  neitlier ;  that 
"  The  [London]  Times  "  for  years  wrote  diocess  for  "  diocese," 
chymistry  for  "  chemistry  ;"  that  Abraham  Lincoln  wrote 
in  his  messa^ns  to  Congress  abolishment  instead  of  "  aboli- 
tion;"  that  Mr.  E.  A.  Freeman  sought  to  resuscitate  the 
more  -part  in  the  Biblical  sense  of  "  the  greater  part,"  and 
mivkle  in  the  sense  of  "  much  "  or  "  grtat,"  —  as  in  his 
"  miclde  worship,"  "  mickle  minster  of  Ptheims  ;  "  *  or  that 
the  writer  who  could  not  forgive  the  language  for  taking 
so  kindly  to  its!'  insisted  on  calling  poets  makers.  The 
recent  efforts  of  grammarians  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
to  keep  telegram  out  of  the  language  were  unsuccessful. 
So  was  Charles  Sumner's  attempt  to  substitute  a  rare  for 
a  well-known  word  :  — 

1  A.   W.  Ward:    in  Henry  Craik's   "English  Trose,"   vol.  ii.;   John 
Milton. 

2  Landor:  Conversation.s.  Third  Series;  Johnson  and  Home  (Tooke). 
8  John  Forstor:  Life  of  F^andor. 

*  History  of  the  Normau  ConiiuesL 

*  See  page  3. 


24  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY, 

•'With  these  views  I  find  the  various  processes  of  annexion* 
only  a  natural  manifestation  to  be  encouraged  always,  and  to  be 
welcomed  under  proper  conditions  of  population  and  public  opin- 
ion. 1  say 'annexion  '  rather  than  'annexation.'  Where  a  word 
is  so  much  used,  better  save  a  syllable,  especially  as  the  shorter  is 
the  better," 

For  two  or  three  days  after  the  publication  of  this 
letter,  some  of  the  local  journals  followed  Mr,  Sumner's 
lead ;  but  in  a  week  his  suggestion  was  forgotten. 

These  marked  failures  should  warn  the  student  of 
language,  whether  he  fills  a  professor's  chair  or  sits  at  a 
pupil's  desk,  not  to  try  to  stem  the  current  of  usage 
when  it  strongly  sets  one  way ,2 

1  The  question  was  whether  to  annex  Charlestown  to  Boston. 

2  For  numerous  instances  of  such  attempts,  see  Mr.  Fitzedward  Hall's 
"  Modern  Enghsh." 


CHAPTER  II. 

VIOLATIONS   OF   GOOD  USE. 


Offences  against  good  use  are :  (1)  Barbarisms,  wcr^s 
or  pnrases  not  English  ;  (2)  Improprieties,  words  or 
phrases   used  in   a  sense   not   English ;   (3)  Solecisms, 


constructions  not  English. 


SECTION  I. 

BARBARISMS. 

Barbarisms  are  :  (1)  words  which,  though  formerly 
in  good  use,  are  now  obsolete ;  (2)  words,  whether  of 
native  growth  or  of  foreign  extraction,  which  have  not 
established  themselves  in  the  language ;  (3)  new  forma- 
tions from  words  in  good  use. 

Readers  of  books  written  three  centuries  ago  may 
regret  that  some  of  the  words  in  those  books  have  dis- 
appeared from  the  vocabulary  of  the  present  o^,,oiete 
generation ;  but  the  fact  that  they  have  disap-  ''"'''^^• 
peared  goes  to  show  that  they  are  no  longer  useful.  Valu- 
able as  they  may  have  been  in  their  day,  they  are  now 
barbarisms. 

Yet  Swift  maintained  that  "it  is  better  a  language 
should  not  be  wholly  perfect  than  that  it  should  be  per- 
petually changing ; "  that,  therefore,  "  some  method  should 
be  thought  on  for  ascertaining  and  fixing  our  language  for- 
ever,  after  such  alterations  in  it  dh  ch-nll  be  thought  requi- 


*>()  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

^ite  ; "  and  that,  to  this  end,  "  no  word  which  a  society 
^hall  give  a  sanction  to,  be  afterward  antiquated  and 
exploded,  because  then  the  okl  books  will  yet  be  always 
valuable  according  to  their  intrinsic  worth,  and  not 
thrown  aside  on  account  cf  uninf.ftlligible  words  and 
phrases,  which  appear  harsh  and  uncodth  only  because 
they  are  out  of  fashion."^ 

Strange  that  so  shrewd  a  man  as  Swift  should  not  have 
drawn  the  natural  inference  from  his  last  expression.  — 
should  not  have  perceived  that  words,  like  things,  are  as 
a  rule  of  little  value  when  out  of  fashion,  and  that  a  word 
inevitably  goes  out  of  fashion  with  that  which  it  names ! 
When,  for  instance,  the  introduction  of  firearms  into  the 
field  of  sport  put  an  end  to  hawking,  it  also  rendered  obso- 
lete many  words  in  the  vocabulary  of  hawking. 

The  analogy  suggested  by  Swift's  expression  is,  indeed, 

complete.     Old-fashioned  words  give  stateliness  to  poetry, 

as  brocades  and  knee-breeches  give  d'gnity  to  a  ceremony ; 

but  on  ordinary  occasions  the  former  are  as  much  out  of 

place  as  the  latter.     Those  who  use  obsolete  or  obsolescent 

v/ords  because  they  do  not  know  the  present  fashion  in 

language,   show  their   ignorance ;   those   who   know   the 

fashion  but  refuse  to  follow  it  are  guilty  of  affectation. 

Examples  of  such  ignorance  are:  party '^(-person),  collegiate^  (col- 
legian), afeard  (afraid),  unheknoicu  (unknown),  axe  (ask),  to  sn?m- 
cion  (suspect), /or  to,  as,  "I  started  /o/'  to  go."  Examples  of  such 
affectation  ai'e  :  agone.,^  in  the  like  sort,*  to  suffrage,  meneemeih,^  other- 
tvhere,^  common ireal''  (commonwealth!,  a'lit,  as  in  "their  adits  and 

^  Jonathan  Swift :  A  Troposnl  for  Correcting,  Improving,  and  Ascer- 
taining the  English  Tongne.     (1712.) 

^  See  Notes  and  Queries:  Sixth  Series,  vol.  ii.  p.  274. 

*  Student's  theme.  ■*  E.  A.  Freeman. 
^  William  Morris:  The  Story  of  the  Glittering  Plain. 

*  Archbishop  Trench:  I.ectarcs  on  1  lutarch. 
'  A.  C.  ijwinbaiue :  Essays  and  Studies. 


VIOLATIONS  OF   GOOD  USE.  27 

exits ;  "  ^  mote,  as  in  "  So  tnote  it  be."      Gollen  may  como  under 
either  head. 

In  times  of  intellectual  ferment  like  ours,  novelties  in 
language  are  constantly  coming  to  the  surface.  These 
novelties,  of  which  some  are  and  some  are  not 

,        .  .  New  words. 

lestmed  to  become  ii,ngiish,  popular  writers 
are  too  eager  and  scholars  too  slow  to  accept.  The 
scholar  may  retard  the  necessary  growth  of  the  language ; 
but  the  popular  writer  runs  the  risk  of  disfiguring  his 
pages  with  expressions  that  will  he  either  disagreeable  or 
unintelligible  to  the  next  generation.  It  is  the  exigencies 
of  expression  that  determine  what  words  shall  Come  into 
a  language  as  well  as  what  words  shall  go  out  of  it.  Thus 
the  invention  of  gunpowder,  at  the  same  time  that  it 
rendered  the  vocabulary  of  hawking  useless,  introduced 
a  vocabulary  of  its  own. 

So,  too,  we  have  borrowed  new  things  from  nations 
which  excel  in  one  or  another  particular,  and  ^^^ds  of  for- 
with  the  new  things  their  names.  eigu  origin. 

Shruh  (a  drink),  !<nfn,  come  to  us  from  the  Arabic ;  cargo,  embargo, 
stnm/irtle,  ranch,  cigar,  slierry,  siesia,  inalador,  from  the  Spanish; 
iwhrogtin,  macaroni,  vermicelli,  piano,  and  many  musical  terms,  from 
the  Italian  ;  moccasin,  squaw,  tcampuin,  wigtcam,  tomalunck,  from 
the  North  American  Indian ;  yacht,  huoy,  doop,  and  other  nautical 
terms,  from  the  Dutch ;  lodchi,  from  the  Hindoostanee ;  cockatoo, 
gong,  gutta-percha,  from  the  Malay;  tnhoo,  from  the  Polynesian; 
acrobat,  auibrosia.  euphony,  panic,  theism,  from  the  Greek ;  caste, 
from  the  Portuguese ;  altar  (of  roses),  shawl,  sherbet,  from  the 
Persian ;  hammock,  from  the  West  Indian.  The  French  language 
has  contributed  to  the  English  many  of  the  terms  of  warfare,  as 
abatis;  of  diplomacy,  as  enroy ;  of  fashionable  intercourse,  as 
etiquette;  of  cookery,  as  omelette;  of  the  fine  arts,  as  amateur;  and 
it  has  borrowed  from  the  English  some  nautical  terms,  as  brick 

1  Sir  Arthur  Helps  :  Social  Pressure. 


2S  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

C^-ig) ;  some  political  terms,  as  budget ;  ^  some  words  relating  to 
home  life,  as  conforlable;^  some  relating  to  manly  sports,  a,s  jockey. 

Convenient  as  the  practice  of  borrowing  from  one's 
neighbors  may  be,  it  should  never  be  carried  beyond  the 
limits  prescribed  by  good  use,  —  limits  fixed  by  necessity 
or  by  general  convenience.  Even  within  these  limits,  the 
introduction  of  a  foreign  word  is  attended  with  serious 
drawbacks.  Time  —  sometimes  more,  sometimes  less  — 
is  required  for  such  a  word  to  become  familiar,  and  it 
may  never  quite  throw  off  its  foreign  air.  A  native  word, 
moreover,  is  usually  one  of  a  numerous  family ;  but  a 
foreign  word  often  comes  alone,  and  rarely  brings  with  it 
all  the  words  of  the  same  origin. 

Even  if  exposition  should  finally  supplant  exhibition,  we  should 
still  be  unable  to  say  to  expose,  exposants,  expositor,  instead  of  to 
exhibit  and  the  cognate  words.  If  a  new  derivative  were  required, 
an  Englishman  would  naturally  form  it  from  to  exhibit,  as  a  French- 
man would  form  it  from  expnser. 

Though  these  inconveniences  constitute  no  sufficient 
objection  to  the  use  of  a  foreign  expression  which  has 
Borrowed  bccn  uaturalizcd  or  of  one  which  supplies  an 
"  "^'  obvious  need,  they  should   in   all  other  cases 

Oe  decisive.     Unfortunately,  the  temptation  to  strut  in 
borrowed  finery  is  often  too  strong  to  be  resisted. 

"It  is  difficult  to  believe  either  in  the  moral  rectitude  or  in 
the  mental  strength  of  a  man  or  a  woman  addicted  to  the  quoting 
of  odd  scraps  of  odd  French.  When  we  take  up  the  latest  work  of 
a  young  lady  novelist,  and  find  scattered  through  her  pages  sou- 
briquet and  double  entendre  and  a  Voutrance  and  artiste  and  other 
choice  specimens  of  the  French  which  is  spoken  by  those  who  do 
not  speak  French,  we  need  read  no  further  to  know  that  the  mantle 

^  Originally  from  the  French  hongette  (leather  hag). 
2  "  Conifortahlc  "  came  to  us  from  tlie  French  confort,  and  has  nowgOQO 
back  to  the  French  with  the  English  meaning. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  29 

of  George  Eliot  and  Jane  Austen  has  not  fallen  on  the  fair  author- 
ess's  shoulders.  Even  Mrs.  Oliphant,  a  novelist  who  is  old  enough 
to  know  better,  and  who  has  delighted  us  all  with  charming  tales  of 
truly  English  life,  is  wont  to  sprinkle  French  freely  through  her 
many  volumes,  not  only  in  her  novels,  but  even  in  her  unnecessary 
Life  of  Richard  Brinsley  Sheridan,  whom  she  rashly  credited  with 
gaiele  du  coeur  (sic)."  ^ 

On  this  subject  Punch  gives  some  sound  "  advice  to  an 
actor  " :  — 

"Do  not  call  your  part  a  role ;  it  is  not  English.  .  .  .  And  do 
not  call  the  wings  the  cuuli.^ses.  Do  not  style  yourself  an  artist,  or 
an  artiste,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  do  not  speak  of  applause,  how- 
ever loud  and  genuine,  as  a  periect  furore.  Do  not  describe  a  per- 
formance given  at  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  as  a  matinee,  and 
do  not  call  a  burlesque  a  tracestie  or  extracaganza.  ^^'hen  a  con- 
cert or  mixed  entertainment  is  given  between  more  solid  pieces  at 
a  benefit,  there  is  no  occasion  to  describe  it  as  a  melange,  or  inter' 
mezzo."  ^ 

Borrowed  verbal  finery  is  perhaps  less  common  than  it 
was  a  <];eneration  ago;  but  it  still  appears  in  writings 
that  find  many  readers. 

"  Wo  need  only  glance  into  one  of  the  periodical  representatives 
of  fashionable  literature,  or  into  a  novel  of  the  day,  to  see  how 
serious  this  assault  upon  the  purity  of  the  English  language  has 
become.  The  chances  are  more  than  equal  that  we  shall  fall  in 
with  a  writer  who  considers  it  a  point  of  honor  to  choose  all  his 
most  emphatic  words  from  a  French  vocabulary,  and  who  would 
think  it  a  lamentable  falling  off  in  his  style,  did  he  write  half-a- 
dozen  sentences  without  employing  at  least  half  that  number  of 
foreign  words.  His  heroes  are  always  marked  by  an  air  dlttlngue ; 
his  vile  men  are  sure  to  be  blase's ;  his  lady  friends  never  merely 
dance  or  dress  well,  they  dance  or  dress  a  merveille:  and  he  himself 
when  lolling  on  the  sofa  under  the  spirit  of  laziness  does  not  simply 
enjoy  his  rest,  he  luxuriates  in  the  dolce  far  niente,  and  wonaers 

1  The  Saturday  Review,  Jan.  26,  1884,  p.  113. 
8  Punch,  Dec.  23,  1882. 


30  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

when  he  will  ^  manage  to  begin  his  viagnum  opus.  And  so  he  carries 
us  through  his  story,  running  off  into  hackneyed  French,  Italian, 
or  Latin  expressions  whenever  he  has  anything  to  say  which  he 
thinks  should  be  graphically  or  emphatically  said.  It  really  seems 
as  if  he  thought  the  English  language  too  meagre,  or  too  common- 
place a  dress,  in  which  to  clothe  his  thoughts.  The  tongue  which 
gave  a  noble  utterance  to  the  thoughts  of  Shakspere  and  Milton 
is  altogether  insufficient  to  express  the  more  cosmopolitan  ideas  of 
Smith,  or  Tomkins,  or  Jenkins  ! 

"  We  have  before  us  an  article  from  the  pen  of  a  very  clever 
writer;  and,  as  it  appears  in  a  magazine  which  specially  professes 
to  represent  the  '  best  society,'  it  may  be  taken  as  a  good  specimen 
of  the  style.  It  describes  a  dancing  party,  and  we  discover  for  the 
first  time  how  much  learning  is  necessary  to  describe  a  'hop  '  prop- 
erly. The  reader  is  informed  that  all  the  people  at  the  dance 
belong  to  the  beau  monde,  as  may  be  seen  at  a  coup  d^oell ;  the  demi- 
moiide  is  scrupulously  excluded,  and  in  fact  every  thing  about  it 
bespeaks  the  haul  (on  of  the  whole  affair.  A  lady  who  has  been 
happy  in  her  hair-dresser  is  said  to  be  coiffe'e  a  ravir.  Then  there 
is  the  bold  man  to  describe.  Having  acquired  the  snvoir  faire,  he 
is  never  afraid  of  making  a  faux  pas,  but  no  matter  what  kind  of 
conversation  is  started  plunges  at  once  in  median  res.  Following 
him  is  the  fair  debutante,  who  is  already  on  the  look-out  for  un  bon 
parti,  but  whose  nez  retrousse  is  a  decided  obstacle  to  her  success. 
She  is  of  course  accompanied  by  mamma  en  r/rande  toilette,  who, 
entre  nous,  looks  ratl.>er  ride'e  even  in  the  gaslight.  Then,  lest  the 
writer  should  seem  frivolous,  he  suddenly  abandons  the  description 
of  the  dances,  vis-a-vis  and  dos-a-dos,  to  tell  us  that  Hom.er  becomes 
tiresome  when  he  sings  of  Bowttiv  n6ma  "Hpi?  twice  in  a  page.  The 
supper  calls  forth  a  corresponding  amount  of  learning,  and  the 
writer  concludes  his  article  after  having  aired  his  Greek,  his  Latin, 
his  French,  and,  in  a  subordinate  way,  his  English."  ^ 

On  behalf  of  some  of  these  expressions,  —  viz.,  blase,  dolce  far 
niente,  demi-monde,  savoir  faire,  faux  pas,  debutante,  vis-a-vis,  dos-a- 
dos,  —  something  may  be  said,  for  it  is  hard  to  find  English  equiv- 
alents ;  but  it  can  never  be  wise  to  crowd  a  page  with  foreign  ex- 
pressions, even  though  some  of  them  may  be  allowable.  A  book 
intended  for  English-speaking  people  should  be  in  English. 

^  Is  this  the  proper  auxiliary  ? 

*  The  Leeds  Mercury;  quoted  by  Dean  Alford  in  "The  Queen's  English." 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  31 

Of  late  years  there  has  sprung  up  a  practice  of  fol- 
lowing the  foreign  fashion  in  the  spelling  of  proper  names 
of  foreign  extracUon  which  have  Ion"  had  Ens;-  Foreign  fa^h- 
lish    forms.      Since  the  old  word  is  familiar,  sieiim-. 
the  new  word  is  not  needed,  and  it  is  not  pleasing  to 
English  ears. 

There  might  be  less  objection  to  a  change  in  the  direc- 
tion proposed,  if  it  were  rigidly  carried  out  with  all  proper 
names  of  foreign  origin,  if  it  were  founded  upon  any  intel- 
ligible principle,  or  if  the  practice  of  its  advocates  were 
uniform. 

A  would-be  reformer  writes  Thucyliile--^,  Milliailex,  Flerorlolos, 
in  one  book  ;  ^  Thuciji/ii/e.'^,  iMUtia//e>t,  Heroilalu-^,  in  another.^  We 
find  Mil  Line.  Arkailia,  Knrkijrn,  Sojiliohle^,  Xerxe;<,  J'ij7t/ios,  Nizza, 
Mniaeille,  Elr^ns.t,  in  tlie  same  book  ^  with  Thf.bea,  Corinth,  Cyprus, 
^sc/ii/lux,  Alexaii'/er,  Croesus.  Venice,  L/jons,  Lorraine.  In  one  of 
two  liistories  published  in  the  same  year,  Mr.  Freeman  writes 
of  King  JEIfreil  ;*  in  the  othsr,  of  King  Alfred.^  The  same 
author  writes  Bnonnparte ,  but,  like  IVIacaulay,  he  calls  the  French 
Louis  Lfnois,  and,  like  Irving,  writes  Mnhimet  and  Mnhnmetan, 
not  "Mohammed"  and  "Mohammedan."  The  Arabic  prophet's 
-name  ^  still  is,  as  it  has  been  for  centuries,  a  favorite  battle-ground 
for  Christians.  "Every  man  who  has  travelled  in  the  East  brings 
home  a  new  name  for  the  prophet,  and  trims  his  turban  to  his  own 
taste."  ^  A  remarkable  style  of  turban  appears  in  the  title  of  a 
book  published  iu  England  in  1876,  — "A  Digest  of  Moohum- 
muJan  Law." 

1  Freeman:  General  Sketch  of  History  (edition  of  1876). 

2  Ibid.;  History  of  Europe  (Primer). 

3  Ibid.:  General  Sketch  of  History. 

*  Ibid.:  History  of  the  Norman  Conquest. 

^  Ibid.:  History  of  Europe  (Primer). 

^  See  Campbeir.s  Rlietoric,  book  ii.  chap,  iii  sect.  i.  Failure  attenfled 
tlie  attempt,  in  Dr.  Campbell's  time,  to  substitute  Confutcee  for  ''  Confu- 
cius," aud  Zpidnsht  for  "Zoroaster." 

'  Landor:  Couver.sations,  Third  Series;  Johnson  and  Home  (Tooke). 


32  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

The  practice  of  calling  Greek  deities  by  Greek  names, 
rather  than  by  the  Latin  names  of  other  deities,  seems  to 
be  gaining  ground.  The  reasons  for  this  change  are  suc- 
cinctly stated  by  Matthew  Arnold :  — 

"  The  Latin  names  of  the  Greek  deities  raise  in  most  cases  the 
idea  of  quite  distinct  personages  from  tlie  personages  whose  idea 
is  raised  by  the  Greek  names.  Hera  and  Juno  are  actually,  to 
every  scholar's  imagination,  two  different  people.  So  in  all  these 
cases  the  Latin  names  must,  at  any  inconvenience,  be  abandoned 
when  we  are  dealing  with  the  Greek  world.  But  I  think  it  can  be 
in  the  sensitive  imagination  of  Mr.  Grote  only,  that  '  Thucydides  * 
raises  the  idea  of  a  different  man  from  QovKv8i8r]s."  ^ 

Occasionally,  however,  a  powerful  voice  is  heard  on  the 
other  side  of  the  question. 

"  I  make  no  apology  for  employing  in  my  version  the  names 
Jupiter,  Juno,  Venus,  and  others  of  Latin  origin,  for  Zeus,  Hera, 
Aiahrodite,  and  other  Greek  names  of  the  deities  of  whom  Homer 
speaks.  The  names  Avhich  I  have  adopted  have  been  naturalized 
in  our  language  for  centuries,  and  some  of  them  —  as  Mercury, 
Vulcan,  and  Dian  —  have  even  been  provided  with  English  ter- 
minations. I  was  translating  from  Greek  into  English,  and  I 
therefore  translated  the  names  of  the  gods,  as  well  as  the  other 
parts  of  the  poem."  ^ 

Barbarisms  which  come  under  the  general  head  of 
Words  of  low  slang  or  cant  —  the  spawn  of  a  political  con- 
ongm.  ^gg|.^    fQj,    instance  —  usually    die    a    natural 

death.     For  example  :  — 

Up  Salt  Rit-er,  Lnco-foco,  Copperhead,  Barn-hwner,  Hunker,  Soft- 
shell,  Hard-shell,  AdulUniiile,  Dough-face,  Short-hairs,  Puscylte,  Car- 
pet-hacjfjer,  Unionist,  Secessionist,  Frce-soiler,  Garrisonian,  contraband 
(fugitive  slave) 

Mugwump,  Socialist,  Populist,  Lnhorite,  Silcerile,  Coxeyite,  are  so 
new  that  their  fate  is  not  yet  decided. 

1  M.  Arnold  ;  Essavs  in  Criticism  ;  On  Translating  Homer,  Last  Worda 
>  William  Cullen  Bryant :  Preface  to  "  The  Iliad." 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  33 

If  a  word  supplies  a  permanent  need  in  the  language 
it  may,  whatever  its  origin,  come  into  good  use.  For 
example :  — • 

Whir/,  Tory,  Methodist,  Quaker,  Shaker,  Yankee,  Transcendental- 
ist.  Realist,  Idealist,  Radical,  banter,  biyot,  blue-stocking,  bombast, 
buncombe,  cahd,  cant,  fun,  fustian,  hoax,  humbug,  slung,  snob,  tramp 
(vagTant),  clecer,  flimsij,  quixotic,  to  boycott,  to  shunt,  to  quiz. 

Great  latitude  is  allowed  in  the  formation  of  new  words 
from  words  in  present  use,  since  it  is  by  such  j^^^^  ^^^^^ 
changes  that  a  language  grows.  '•'°'^^- 

The  noun  mob  may  have  been  justly  objected  to  while  the  ques- 
tion of  its  adoption  was  open  ;  but  when  once  it  was  established, 
to  mob,  mobbish,  mob-rule,  and  mob-law  naturally  followed.  After  gas 
came  into  general  use,  —  the  word  with  the  thing,  —  it  was  neces- 
sary, as  well  as  natural,  to  form  derivatives  like  gai^eous  and  gas- 
ometer. Other  instances  are :  to  coal,  to  steam,  to  experience,  to  pro- 
gress, to  supplement,  gfted,  talented.  Of  these  the  last  five  met,  if 
indeed  they  do  not  still  meet,  great  opposition. 

"  One  verb,  that  has  come  to  us  within  the  last  four  years  from 
the  American  mint,  is  'to  interview.'  Nothing  can  better  express 
the  spirit  of  our  age,  ever  craving  to  hear  something  new.  The 
verb  calls  up  before  us  a  queer  pair  :  on  the  one  side  stands  the 
great  man,  not  at  all  sorry  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  the  rest 
of  mankind  are  to  learn  what  a  fine  fellow  he  is;  on  the  other 
side  fussily  hovers  the  pressman,  a  Boswell  who  sticks  at  nothing 
in  the  way  of  questioning,  but  who  outdoes  his  Scotch  model  in 
being  wholly  unshackled  by  any  weak  feeling  of  veneration."  ^ 

Whatever  the  need  of  to  intervievj,  there  is  nothing  to 
be  said  in  favor  of  many  vulgar  substitutes  for 

■^  "  Vulgarisms. 

expressions  in  good  use.     For  example  :  — 

A.  steal,  the  try,'^  educationalist."  speculatist,  prerentatwe,  ruinn' 
tion,  confiiction  8  (conflict),  cablegram,"  rlectmcution,^  reportorial,^ 
managerial,"  informational,  in  cotn-se*  (of  course),  ^rts/?/ 2  (tasteful), 

^  Oliphant:  Standard  English,  chap.  vi. 
2  American  newspaper.  ^  Student's  theme. 

2- 


34  GRAMMATICAL   TURITY. 

to  ayslemize,'^  and  the  italicized  words  in  the  following  expressions : 
"the  skuturial  phenomenon  ; '"  ^  "  an  international  oaric  contest;  "^ 
"  Speaker  liaudall'd  rdirac// ;  "  ^  "  his  letter  of  dedinalure  ;  "  ^  "  rep- 
utable musicianlij  virtues  ;"  ^  "a  hjriculed  farce  ;"  ^  ^' inlheatricable 
dramas  ;  "  '^  "  unwipeupdble  blood  ;  "  ^  "  Lord  Salisbury's  wander 
through  Europe  ;  "  4  "  since  the  issuance  of  the  President's  order ;  "  i 
"  Clothes  laundered  at  short  notice  ;"  ^  "  The  case  was  refereed;  "i 
"  He  deeded  me  the  land  ;  "  "  The  town  of  Reading  defaults  pay- 
ment ;  "  1  "  President  Cleveland  will  not  consulate  : "  i  "  The  woman 
suffragists  are  still  suffrofjing ;  "  ^  "  Brown  suicided  yesterday ;  "  ^ 
"  It  was  a  case  of  suicidism  ;  "  ^  "  The  police  raided  the  club-house ; "  * 
"  The  house  was  hunjlurize<l ;  "  ^  "  He  was  fatigued  by  the  difficult 
climb ; "  ®  "  Longe  was  extradited."  ^ 

Good   use  adopts  some   abbreviated  forms, 

Abbreviated 

foima.  but  brands  as  barbarisms  many  others. 

Among  the  abbreviated  forms  which  have  established  themselves 
as  words  in  the  language  are:  cab  from  "cabriolet,"  chum  from 
"chamber-fellow"  or  (perhaps)  "chamber-mate,"  consols  from 
"  consolidated  annuities,"  hack  from  "  hackney-coach,"  mob  from 
inohile  vuli/us,  Miss  from  "Mistress,"  penult  from  "penultima," 
proxi/ and  proctor  horn  "procuracy"  and  "procurator,"  van  from 
"  vanguard." 

Some  of  the  abbreviations  condemned  by  "The  Tatler  "'  at  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century  are  still  in  bad  use,  as  hi/p  for  "  hypo- 
chondria," incor/  for  "incognito,"  phiz  for  "  physiognomy," /wz  for 
"positive."  Others  —  as  plenipo  for  "plenipotentiary,"  rep  for 
"reputation  "  —  have  disappeared ;  but  their  places  have  been  more 
than  filled  by  such  words  as  nd  for  "  advertisement,"  hike  or  byke 
for  "bicycle,"  cap  for  "captain,"  cn-cd  for  "female  student  at 
a  co-educational  college,"   compo  ^  for  "  composition,"  curios  for 

1  American  newspaper. 

2  Longman's  Mngizhie,  Novemher,  1882,  p  .54. 

3  >»'athaniel  Hawtlinrne:  Dr  Grimshawe's  Secret,  chap.  xxii.  The  reader 
should  perhaps  be  reminded  that  Hawthorne  did  not  revise  this  romance. 

*  Tlie  [London]  Spectator.  ^  Ad\ertisement. 

8  Student's  theme. 

f  No.  230  (Swift).     See  al.so  "The  Spectator,"  No.  135  (Addison). 
8  C.  L.  Eastlake :  Hints  on  Household  Taste. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  35 

"curiosities,"  cute  for  "acute,"  exam  for  "examination,"  (lent'^ 
for  "gentleman,"  gym  for  "gymnasium,"  hum  for  "humbug," 
mins  for  "  minutes,"  pants  ("  the  trade  name,"  it  is  said)  for  "  pan- 
taloons "  ("  trousers  "  is  far  preferable),  pur  for  "  paragraph,"  pard 
for  "partner,"  ped  for  " pedestrian," /j<?/Ai-  for  " perquisites," /^Aong 
for  " telephone,"  ;j//o/o  tor  "photograph," ^jre/m  for  "  preliminary 
examination,"  prex  for  "president,"  prof  iov  "professor,"  quad 
for  -'quadrangle,"  spec  for  "speculation,"  typo  for  "typographer," 
varsity  for  "  university." 

Some  abbreviations  that  are  frequent  in  verse  are  not 
allowable  in  prose.     For  example :  — 
E'er,  ne'er,  o^er,  e'en,  i',  o\  'mid,  'neath,  'tivixt. 

It  may  be  said,  and  said  with  truth,  that  the  rules  thus 
far  suggested,  however  firmly  founded  in  reason,  are  least 
useful  where  there  is  room  for  doubt  whether 

The  safe  rule. 

an  old  word  has  become  obsolete,  or  whether 
a  new  word  has  established  itself, —  the  very  cases  in 
which  guidance  is  most  needed.  In  such  cases,  pru- 
dence—  at  least  for  writers  who  have  their  spurs  to 
win  —  is  the  better  part  of  valor.  Such  writers  can 
follow  no  better  counsel  than  that  given  by  Ben  Jonson 
and  Pope: — 

"  Custom  is  the  most  certain  mistress  of  language,  as  the  pi;blic 
stamp  makes  the  current  money.  But  we  must  not  be  too  frequent 
with  the  mint,  every  day  coining,  nor  fetch  words  from  the  ex- 
treme and  utmost  ages ;  since  the  chief  virtue  of  a  style  is  per- 
spicuity, and  nothing  so  vicious  in  it  as  to  need  an  interpreter. 

I  "  The  curt  form  of  rjent,  as  a  less  ceremoiiious  substitute  for  the  full 
expressioa  of  'gentleman,'  had  once  made  considerable  way,  but  its 
career  was  blighted  in  a  court  of  justice.  It  is  about  twenty  years  ago 
that  two  young  men,  being  brought  before  a  London  magistr.ate,  described 
themselves  as  '  gents.'  The  magistrate  said  he  considered  that  a  designa- 
tion little  better  than  '  blackguard.'  The  abbreviate  form  has  never  been 
able  to  recover  that  shock."  —  John  Earle:  The  Philology  of  the  English 
Tongue,  1  370. 


36  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

Words  borrowed  of  antiquity  do  lend  a  kind  of  majesty  to  style, 
and  are  not  without  their  delight  sometimes.  For  tliey  have  the 
authority  of  years,  and  out  of  their  intermission  do  win  themselves 
a  kind  of  grace-like  newness.  But  the  eldest  of  the  present,  and 
newness  of  the  past  language,  is  the  best.  For  what  was  the 
ancient  language,  which  some  men  so  dote  upon,  but  the  ancient 
3ustom  ?  yet  when  I  name  custom,  I  undeistand  not  the  vulgar 
custom  ;  for  that  were  a  precept  no  less  dangerous  to  language 
than  life,  if  we  should  speak  or  live  after  the  manners  of  the 
vulgar  :  but  that  I  call  custom  of  speech,  which  is  the  consent  of 
the  learned  ;  as  custom  of  life,  which  is  the  consent  of  the  good."  * 

"  In  words,  as  fashions,  the  same  rule  will  hold; 
Alike  fantastic,  if  too  uew,  or  old  ; 
Be  not  the  first  hy  whom  the  new  are  tried, 
Nor  yet  the  last  to  lay  the  old  aside."  ^ 

Even  writers  of  established  reputation  who  unite  tact 
and  discretion  witli  genius  act  in  tlie  spirit  of  these  pre- 
cepts. Cicero  was  wont  to  introduce  an  uncommon  ex- 
pression with  "  so  to  speak  ;  "  Macaulay's  new  words  can 
be  counted  on  the  fingers ;  Matthew  Arnold  apologizes 
for  writing  Benascence  for  "  Eenaissance."  "  I  have  ven- 
tured," he  says,  "  to  give  to  the  foreign  word  Eenaissance 
—  destined  to  become  of  more  common  use  amongst  us, 
as  the  movement  which  it  denotes  comes,  as  it  will 
come,  increasingly  to  interest  us  —  an  English  form."  ^ 
"  I  trade,"  says  Diyden,  "  both  with  the  living  and  the 
dead,  for  the  enrichment  of  our  native  language.  We 
have  enough  in  England  to  supply  our  necessity ;  but,  if  we 
will  have  things  of  magnificence  and  splendour,  we  must 

1  Ben  Jonson:  Discoveries.     Borrowed  from  Quintilian:  Inst.  Orator 
i.  vi  i.,  xxxix-xlv. 

2  Ale.xander  Pope:   Essay  on  Criticism,  part  ii. 

3  M.  Arnold  :  Culture  and  Anarchy,  sect  iv.  Since  this  was  written, 
several  writers  liave  adopted  Mr.  Arnold's  suggestion,  and  Renascence 
bids  fair  to  find  a  place  in  the  language. 

Query  as  to  the  position  of  "  an  English  form." 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  37 

get  them  by  commerce.  Poetry  requires  ornament ;  and 
that  is -not  to  be  had  from  our  old  Teuton  monosyllables: 
therefore,  if  I  find  any  elegant  word  in  a  classic  author,  I 
propose  it  to  be  naturalized,  by  using  it  myself ;  and,  ij 
the  public  approves  of  it,  the  bill  passes.  But  every  man 
cannot  distinguish  between  pedantry  and  poetry  :  every 
man,  therefore,  is  not  fit  to  innovate."  ^ 

How,  then,  is  a  language  to  grow  ?  How  is  literature 
to  avail  itself  of  the  words,  new  or  old,  which  it  needs  for 
complete  expression?  The  answer  suggests  itself.  In 
the  art  of  writing,  as  in  every  other  art,  it  is  the  mas- 
ters who  give  the  law  and  determine  the  practice.  The 
poets,  the  great  pross  writers,  may  safely  be  left  to 
dscide  what  words  shall  be  recalled  from  the  past, 
imported  from  other  countries,  or  adopted  from  the  com- 
mon speech  of  common  people.  It  is  they  who  deter- 
mine GOOD  USE. 

SECTION  11. 

IMPROPRIETIES. 

To  use  an  English  word  in  a  sense  not  English  is  to  be 
guilty  of  an  impropriety  of  language.  Faults  of  this  kind 
are  numerous.  To  attempt  a  complete  classification 
of  those  into  which  even  a  well-informed  writer  may  be 
betrayed  would  transcend  the  limits  of  this  work;  but 
some  current  errors  may  be  noted. 

I.  Many  words  are  so  much  alike  in  appearance  or 
in   sound   as   to   be  easily  mistaken   for   one  a  resemblance 

•^  111  sound  nus- 

another.  ^^''^^• 

To  accede  means  "  to  come  to ;  "  to  cede  means  "  to  yield." 
1  John  Dryden :  Dedication  of  "  The  ^neis." 


38  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

To  accredit  means  "to  invest  with  credit  or  authority,"  or  "to 
send  with  letters  credential ;  "  to  credit  means  "to  believe."  "  Now- 
a-days,  lew  except  very  bad  writers  employ  it  [accredit]  after  the 
manner  of  Southey,  Sir  AValter  Scott,  &c.,  as  a  robust  substitute 
for  credit  or  beliece."  ^ 

Cereinouiowi  is  properly  applied  to  the  forms  of  civility;  ceremo- 
nial, to  ceremonies. 

To  construe  means  "  to  interpret,"  "  to  show  the  meaning;"  to 
construct  means  "to  build:"  we  may  construe  a  sentence  as  in 
translation,  or  construct  it  as  in  composition. 

Continued  is  used  of  fiequently  repeated  acts,  as,  "  Continual 
dropping  wears  away  a  stone ;  "  continuous,  of  uninterrupted  ac- 
tion, as,  "  the  continuous  flowing  of  a  river." 

To  conrince  is  "  to  satisfy  the  understanding  ; "  to  convict,  "  to 
pronounce  guilty."  "The  jury  having  been  convinced  of  the 
prisoner's  guilt,  he  was  convicted." 

A  decided  opinion  is  a  strong  opinion,  which  perhaps  decides 
nothing  ;  a  decisice  opinion  settles  the  question  at  issue.  A  lawyer 
may  have  decided  views  on  a  case ;  the  judgment  of  a  court  is 
decisire. 

Definite  means  "clear,"  "well-defined;"  definitive,  "final."  An 
executive  officer's  ideas  of  his  duty  should  be  definite,  and  his 
action  definitive. 

Distinct  means  "separate,"  "distinguishable,"  or  "distin- 
guished;" distinctive,  "characteristic"  or  "distinguishing." 

Enormit;/  is  used  of  deeds  of  unusual  horror,  ennrmnusneas  of 
things  of  unusual  size.  We  speak  of  the  evormiiy  of  Csesar  Borgia's 
crimes,  of  the  cnormousness  of  the  Rothschilds'  wealth. 

An  excpptional  case  is  a  case  excluded  from  the  operation  of  a  rule; 
except ionalile  conduct  is  conduct  open  to  criticism,  —  conduct  to 
which  exception  may  be  taken. 

Hnply,  now  rarely  used  in  prose,  means  "  by  chance ; "  happily, 
"by  a  happy  chance." 2 

An  article  of  food  may  be  healthful  or  wholesome,  but  is  not 
properly  called  healthy. 

Human  is  that  which  belongs  to  man  as  man ;  humane  means 
"  compassionate." 

1  Fitzedward  Hall :  Modern  English,  chap.  viii. 

*  See  George  Eliot's  "  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Rev.  Amos  Barton,"  chap,  ii 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  39 

Likely  implies  a  probability  of  whatever  character ;  liahUy 
an  unpleasant  probability.  One  is  Ukdy  to  enjoy  an  evening,  to 
o-Q  home  to-morrow,  to  die ;  liable  to  be  hurt,  to  attacks  of  mel- 
ancholy. 

Negligence  is  used  of  a  habit  or  trait ;  neglect,  of  an  act  or  a  suc- 
cession of  acts. 

We  speak  of  the  observation  of  a  fact,  of  a  star ;  of  the  observance 
of  a  festival,  of  a  rule. 

The  act  of  a  public  officer  when  done  in  his  capacity  as  officer  is 
official ;  a  person  who  forces  his  services  upon  one  is  officinus. 

A  person  may  be  sensible  of  cold,  that  is,  may  perceive  cold, 
■without  being  sensitive  to  cold,  that  is,  troubled  by  cold. 

The  signification  ol  an  act  is  its  meaning;  the  significance,  its 
importance. 

Vocation  means  "calling"  or  "profession;"  avocation,  "some- 
thing aside  from  one's  regular  calling,  a  by-work." 

TKoz/Kn//// refers  to  the  stronger  side  of  woman;  womanish,  to  her 
weaker  side.  A  similar  distinction  is  made  between  manly  and 
mannish,  childlike  and  childish. 

II.  Another  class  of  improprieties  comprises  words 
that  are  used  in  a  sense  resembling  the  cor-  a  resemblance 

in  f  euEe  mis- 

rect  one.  leads. 

We  allude  to  an  event  not  distinctly  mentioned  or  directly  re- 
ferred to.  IMacaulay's  allusions  are  said  to  imply  unusual  knowl- 
edge on  the  part  of  the  reader. 

Apparently  is  properly  used  of  that  which  seems,  but  may  not  be, 
real ;  evidentbj,  of  that  which  both  seems  and  is  real. 

Condi(/n  is  properly  used  of  punislunent  which  is  commensurate 
with  the  oifence,  but  which  is  not  necessarily  severe. 

Conscience,  the  moral  sense,  is  improperly  used  for  consciousness, 
the  noun  corresponding  to  conscious. 

To  demean  (from  the  French  dc'menrr)  is  improperly  used  in  the 
sense  of  to  debase,  as  if  it  came  from  "mean." 

To  discover  is  properly  used  in  the  sense  of  "to  find  or  find  out 
what  previously  existed;"  ro  invent,  in  the  sense  of  "to  devise 
something  new."  The  force  of  steam  was  discovered;  the  steam- 
boat was  invented. 


40  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

To  lease  is  improperly  used  in  the  sense  of  "  to  hire  by  lease." 
It  means  ''to  let  by  lease:"  the  lessor  leases  to  the  lessee.  This 
word  IS  so  frequently  misused  that  one  cannot  always  tell  what  is 
meant  by  an  advertisement  ot  "property  to  lease." 

Mutual  is  pioperly  used  m  the  sense  ot  "  reciprocal ; "  it  is  im- 
properly used  by  Dickens  in  "Our  Mutual  Friend,"  —  the  friend 
we  have  in  common. 

l-lea  (in  the  legal  sense)  is  properly  used  of  the  pleadings  or 
the  arraignment  before  a  trial,  not  of  the  argument  at  a  trial. 
A  plea  is  always  addressed  to  the  court ;  an  arguynent  may  be 
addressed  either  to  the  court  or  to  the  jury.  A  similar  remark 
applies  to  the  verbs  plead  and  anjue. 

Premnliire  is  properly  used  in  the  sense  of  "  too  early  ripe,"  as, 
"premature  fruit,"  "a  premature  generalization,"  "intellect  devel- 
oped prematurely."  It  is  improperly  used  to  signify  that  which 
has  not  taken  place  and  perhaps  never  will  take  place:  thus,  dur- 
ing the  Crimean  war,  the  newspapers  spoke  of  the  announcement 
of  a  certain  victory  by  the  Russians  as  premature,  the  tact  being 
that  the  Russians  had  been  beaten. 

'''Quite'"  says  a  recent  writer,  "is  employed  in  every  sense 
where  greatness  or  quantity  has  to  be  expressed,  and  seems  to  me 
to  be  more  injurious  to  the  effect  of  literary  composition  than  the 
misuse  of  any  other  single  word.  '  The  enemy  was  quite  in  force,' 
'Wounded  quite  severely,'  '  Quite  some  excitement'  (!),  and  so  on 
ad  infinitum.  Somewhat  akin  to  this  is  the  word  '  piece'  to  express 
distance :  we  say  '  a  piece  of  land,'  or  *  a  piece  of  water ;  *  but  it  is 
nothing  less  than  a  distortion  of  the  word's  ^  use  to  say  that  'you 
should  not  shoot  at  a  rattlesnake  unless  you  were  off  a  piece,'  or 
'We  are  travelling  quite  a  piece,'  —  which  latter  I  heard  said  by  a 
judge  to  a  member  ot  Congress  when  we  were  crossing  the  Missis- 
sifipi,  and,  owing  to  the  floating  ice,  were  compelled  to  run  a  little 
way  up  the  river."  2 

Some  of  the  expressions  quoted  above  as  "  United  States  Eng- 
lish "  are  peculiar  to  the  United  States,  but  others  are  at  least 
equally  common  in  England.  Both  Englishmen  and  Americans 
use  quite  in  the  sense  of  not  quite.  Quite  should  be  used  in  the 
sense  of  "  entirely,"  never  for  rather  or  very. 

^  Query  as  to  this  use  of  the  possessive. 

*  Chambers's  Journal,  Dec.  20,  1873:  United  States  EngliBh. 


VIOLATIONS  OF   GOOD  USE.  41 

The  word  team  is  properly  used  by  Shakspere  \v\,  "a  team  of 
horse,"  "  the  heavenly-harnessed  team;  "  ^  by  Gray  in  "  drive  their 
team  afield  ;  "  *  by  Carlyle  in  "  when  a  team  of  twenty-five  millions 
begins  rearing;"*  and  by  "plain  people"  In  "He's  a  whole 
team,"  "  He  's  a  full  team."  The  word  is  improperly  used  when 
made  to  include  a  vehicle. 

Terse  (Latin  tersus,  "  wiped  "),  as  applied  to  style,  is  properly 
used  m  the  sense  of  "clean,  neat,  free  from  impurities  or  superflu- 
ities."     The  word  is  improperly  used  for  forcible. 

The  whole  or  ihe  entire  is  improperly  used  tor  all;  we  may  speak 
of  "  the  whole  army "  or  of  "  the  entire  army,"  but  not  of  "  the 
whole  of  General  Grant's  men." 

III.    Some  other  improprieties  are  severely    improprieties 

''       noted  by 

commented  upon  by  John  Stuart  Mill :  ~  Mm. 

"So  many  persons  without  any  thing  deserving  the  name  of 
education  have  become  writers  by  profession,  that  written  language 
may  almost  be  said  to  be  principally  wielded  by  persons  ignorant  of 
the  proper  use  of  the  instrument,  and  *  who  are  spoiling  it  more  and 
more  for  those  who  understand  it.  Vulgarisms,  which  creep  in 
nobody  knows  how,  are  daily  depriving  the  English  language  of 
valuable  modes  of  expressing  thought.  To  take  a  present  instance: 
the  verb  trompire  formerly  conveyed  veiy  expressively  its  correct 
meaning ;  \nz.,  to  hecnme  known  through  unnoticed  channels,  to 
exhale,  as  it  were,  into  publicity  through  invisible  pores,  like  a 
vapor  or  gas  disengaging  itself.  But  of  late  a  practice  has  com- 
menced  ^  of  employing  this  word,  for  the  sake  of  finery,  as  a  mere 
synonyme  of  to  happen:  'the  events  which  have  tranapired  in  the 
Crimea,'  meaning  the  incidents  of  the  war.  This  vile  specimen  of 
bad  English  is  already  seen  in  the  despatches  of  noblemen  and 
viceroys  ;  and  the  time  is  apparently  not  far  distant  when  nobody 
will  understand  the  word  if  used  in  its  proper  sense.      In  other 

1  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  act  iii.  scene  L  Henry  IV.,  part  I  act  iii 
scene  i. 

2  Elegy  written  in  a  Country  Churchyard. 

*  The  French  Revolution,  part  i.  book  iii.  chap.  V. 

*  Query  as  to  this  use  of  and. 

*  See  page  21. 


42  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

cases  it  is  not  the  love  of  finery,  but  simple  want  of  education, 
which  makes  writers  employ  words  in  senses  unknown  to  genuine 
English.  The  use  of  agijrurdting  for  procolang,  in  my  boyhood  a 
vulgarism  of  the  nursery,  has  crept  into  almost  all  newspapers  and 
into  many  books  ;  and  when  the  word  is  used  in  its  proper  sense,  — 
as  when  writers  on  criminal  law  speak  of  '  aggravating  and  extenu* 
ating  circumstances,'  —  their  meaning,  it  is  probable,  is  already 
misunderstood.  It  is  a  great  error  to  think  that  these  corruptions 
of  language  do  no  harm.  Those  who  are  struggling  with  the  diffi- 
culty (and  who  know  by  experience  how  great  it  already  is)  of 
expressing  one's  self  ^  clearly  and  with  precision,  find  their  resources 
continually  narrowed  by  illiterate  writers,  who  seize  and  twist  from 
its  purpose  some  form  of  speech  which  once  served  to  convey  briefly 
and  compactly  an  unambiguous  meaning.  It  would  hardly  be 
believed  how  often  a  writei  is  compelled  to  a  circumlocution  by 
the  single  vulgarism,  introduced  during  the  last  few  )-ears,  of  using 
the  word  alune  as  an  adverb,  only  not  being  fine  enough  for  the 
rhetoric  of  ambitious  ignorance,  A  man  will  say,  'to  which  I  am 
not  alone  bound  by  iionor,  but  also  by  law,'  unaware  that  what  he 
has  unintentionally  said  is,  that  he  is  not  alone  bound,  some  other 
person  being  bound  with  him.  Formerly,  if  any  one  said,  '  I  am 
not  alone  responsible  for  this,'  he  was  understood  to  mean  (what 
alone  his  words  mean  in  correct  English),  that  he  is  not  the  sole 
person  responsible;  but  if  ho  now  used  such  an  expression.  Ihe 
reader  would  be  confused  between  that  and  two  other  meanuigs: 
that  he  is  not  only  responsible  but  something  more,  or  that  he  is 
responsible  not  only  for  this  but  for  something  besides.  The  time 
is  coming  when  Tennyson's  CEnone  could  not  say,  •  I  will  not  die 
alone,'  lest  she  should  be  supposed  to  mean  that  she  would  not  only 
die  but  do  something  else. 

"  The  blunder  of  writing  predicate  for  predict  has  become  so 
widely  diffused  that  it  bids  fair  to  render  one  of  the  most  useful 
terms  in  the  scientific  vocabulary  of  Logic  unintelligible.  The 
mathematical  and  logical  ternr  "to  eliminate'  is  undergoing  a 
simnar  destruction.  All  who  are  acquainted  either  with  the  proper 
use  of  the  word  or  with  its  etymology,  know  that  to  eliminate  a 
thing  is  to  thrust  it  out ;  but  those  who  know  nothing  about  it, 
except  that  it  is  a  fine-looking  phrase,  use  it  in  a  sense  precisely 

*  Is  this  the  proper  pronoun  1 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  43 

the  reverse,  —  to  denote,  not  turning  anything  out,  but  bringing  it 
3  0.  Tbey  talk  of  eliminating  some  truth,  or  otlier  useful  result, 
from  a  mass  of  details."  i 

TV.  Another  class  of  improprieties  comprises  words 
used  in  a  sense  Tvhich  they  bear  in  a  foreign  Engii.-h  words 

•'  °        witli  foreign 

tongue.       .  meaniugs. 

Cnnces^s'wn  is  used  in  the  sense  of  "  legislative  grant ;  "  evasion 
in  the  sense  of  "escape;"  impracticable  in  the  sense  of  "impass- 
able ;  "  pronounced  ^  (French  pronnnce)  in  the  sense  of  "  marked  " 
or  "striking ',"  supreme  (Latin  supi-emm)  in  the  sense  of  "last;" 
resume  in  the  sense  of  "sum  up  ;  "  That  (joes  without  saying^  m  the 
sense  of  "That's  a  matter  of  course."  We  read  that  a  person 
assists'^  (is  present)  at  a  reception  or  a  wedding;  that  a  window 
gives  upon  (looks  upon  or  opens  upon)  the  lawn.  "  Much  of  truth  " 
is  another  Gallicism.  In  Pennsylvania  dumb  (German  dumm)  is 
sometimes  used  for  "  stupid,"  zi'Aa/ /or  a  (German  ivas  fur  e in)  for 
"  what  kind  of." 

"  The  writers  of  telegrams,"  says  IMill,  "  and  the  foreign  corre- 
spondents of  newspapers,  have  gone  on  so  long  translating  n'e?nanr/er 
by  '  to  demand,'  without  a  suspicion  that  it  means  only  to  ask,  that 
(the  context  generally  showing  that  nothing  else  is  meant)  English 
readers  are  gradually  associating  the  English  word  demand  with 
simple  asking,  thus  leaving  the  language  without  a  term  to  express 
a  demand  in  its  proper  sense.  In  like  manner,  transaction,  the 
French  word  for  a  compromise,  is  translated  into  the  English 
word  '  transaction ; '  while,  curiously  enough,  the  inverse  change 
is  taking  place  in  France,  where  the  word  compromis  has  lately 
begun  to  be  used  for  expressing  the  same  idea.  If  this  continues, 
the  two  countries  will  have  exchanged  phrases."  ^ 

^  J.  S.  Mill :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  iv.  chap.  v.  sect.  iii.  Not  in  some 
editions. 

2  For  tnese  words  authority  is  increasing,  hut  it  may  oe  doubted 
whether  tney  are  yet  in  jjnofl  use. 

*  Trollope  easily  finds  two  equivalents  for  this  borrowed  expression. 
" '  Oh !  of  course,  my  dear  fellow,'  said  the  Honourable  John,  laughing, 
*  that  '8  a  matter  of  course.     W  e  all  understand  that  without  saying  it.' " 


44  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

V.  The  subjoined  citations  illustrate  some  of  the 
improprieties  that  have  been  pointed  out:  — 

"  The  rains  rendered  the  roads  impracticable."  ^ 

«  The  Porte  .  .  .  was  not  to  be  held  as  thereby  acknowledging 
a  right  of  interference  which  must  m  its  very  nature  be  exception- 
able:' 2 

"He  was  gathering  [on  his  death-bed]  a  few  supreme  memo- 
ries." 3 

«  The  negligence  of  this  leaves  us  exposed  to  an  uncommon  levity 
in  our  conversation."  * 

"Miss  Potts  seldom  opened  her  lips  in  the  presence  of  Mrs. 
Gervis,  of  whom  she  strongly  disapproved,  not  more  on  account  of 
her  scandalous  behaviour  in  eloping  from  her  father's  house  than 
of  her  present  apparent  negligence  of  a  wife's  domestic  duties."  ^ 

"  The  peanut  and  pop-corn  concession  has  been  very  profitable  to 
the  concessionaire."  ^ 

"  Those  who  hold  the  concession  [of  a  horse  railroad]  ought  to 
be  looked  upon  only  as  servants  of  the  people."  "^ 

"  The  excitement  of  my  evasion  supported  me  for  a  while  after 
leaving  her."  ^ 

"  The  son  of  a  provincial  banker,  he  had  declined  to  join  his 
brother  George  in  carrying  on  the  paternal  avocations."^ 

"  'Without,  T  trust,  departing  from  my  clerical  character,  nay, 
from  my  very  avocation  as  Incumbent  of  a  London  Chapel,  I  have 
seen  a  good  deal  of  the  world.'  "  ^^ 

"  These  ceremonious  rites  became  familiar."" 
"    «  The  enormity  of  the  distance  between  the  earth  and  the  sun."  " 

^  Robert  Southey. 

2  The  Contemporary  Review. 

3  American  novel. 

*  The  Spectator,  No.  76. 

6  W.  E.  Norris:  Matrimony,  chap.  xxv. 

*  American  newspaper. 

'  The  Montreal  Gazette. 

8  Stanley  J.  Weyman  •.  A  Gentleman  of  France,  chap.  xxxa. 

'  W.  E.  Norris     Marcia,  chap.  ii. 
1"  Thackeray  :  The  Newcomes,  chap.  xix. 
W  William  Robertson. 
M  The  Edinburgh  Review  (1876J.  * 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  45 

"It  never  once  entered  Thomas  Newcome's  head,  nor  dive's, 
nor  Florae's,  nor  his  mother's,  that  the  Colonel  demeaned  himself 
at  all  by  accepting  that  bounty."  ^ 

"  *  Yes,  very  proud,'  added  Norman ;  '  but  we  shall  not  demean 
ourselves  any  more,  so  you  may  take  away  your  ugly  stupid  star- 
ling; Edith  is  not  to  take  it.'  "  2 

"  Jackson  complied  with  the  request  of  the  ruffians  ■who  occu  ' 
pied  the  learn  with  him."  ^ 

"  If  the  owners  of  heavy  brick  teams  could  be  induced  to  put 
tires  to  their  wagons,  it  would  no  doubt  be  a  saving  to  the  city.''^ 

"  The  loads  of  merchandise  which  now  pass  in  teams  through  our 
narrow  streets  will,  when  this  improvement  is  completed,  make  the 
transit  by  rail."  ^ 

"She  [Nausicaa]  unharnessed  the  mules  from  the  team."^ 

"  His  domestic  vii-tues  are  too  well  known  to  make  it  necessary 
to  allude  to  them."  ^ 

"A  single  quotation  from  the  'Epistles'  of  Horace,  in  his' 
'  Life '  of  LucuUus,  exhausts,  if  I  do  not  mistake,  the  entire  of  his 
references."  ' 

"The  gloomy  staircase  on  which  the  grating  gave.^^  ^ 

"  I  was  surprised  to  observe  that,  notwithstanding  the  rain  and 
the  coldness  of  the  evening,  the  window  which  gave  upon  this 
balcony  was  open."  * 

"  The  Cardinal  declares  that  he  '  dies  tranquil,  in  the  conscience 
of  never  having  failed  in  his  duty  toward  the  sacred  person  of  the 
Pope.' "  JO 

"  And  these  sentiments  being  uttered  in  public,  upon  the  prome- 
nade, to  mutual  friends,  of  course  the  Duchess  had  the  benefit  of 
Lady  Kew's  remarks  a  few  minutes  after  they  were  uttered."  i^ 

1  Thackeray :  The  Newcomes,  chap.  lxx\n. 

2  Miss  Ferrier  :  Destiny,  vol  i.  chap.  xxv.         ^  American  newspaper. 
*  Student's  translation  from  "  The  Odyssey." 

6  Lord  Dalling  and  Btilwer:  Life  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  part  vi.  chap,  iii 

6  Whose  ■?     The  meaning  is,  "  Plutarch's." 

7  Archbishop  Trench:   Plutarch,  lect.  i. 

8  Charles  Dickens:  Little  Dorrit,  book  i.  chap.  i. 

9  Stanley  J.  Weyman:   A  Gentleman  of  France,  cnap.  IT. 
1"  The  [London]  Spectator. 

"  Tnackeray:  The  Newcomes,  chap.  xxxiiL 


46  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

"  Mara's  opinion  in  their  mutual  studies  began  to  assume  ?,  value 
in  his  eyes  that  her  opinion  on  other  subjects  had  never  done,  and 
she  saw  and  felt,  with  a  secret  gratification,  that  she  was  becoming 
more  to  him  through  their  mutual  pursuit."  i 

"  its  judgments  .  .  .  not  ulune  confirm  Swift's  own  account  ot 
nis  studies,  but  apply  otherwise."  ^ 

"  Resolved,  That  the  directors,  if  they  deem  it  expedient,  may 
lease  or  otherwise  aid,  as  authorized  by  statutes,  in  the  construction 
and  operation  of  any  branch  of  connecting  railroads.  "* 

"  '  Art  thou  still  so  much  surprised,'  said  the  Emir,  '  and  hast 
thou  walked  in  the  world  with  such  little  observance  as  to  wonder 
that  men  are  not  always  what  they  seem  ?  '  "  * 

"  Quite  a  host  of  miscellaneous  facts  relating  to  the  inhabitants 
of  the  United  States  are  brought  together,"  ^ 

"  Then  in  the  afternoon  the  whole  of  them  got  into  a  boat,  and 
were  rowed  away  to  a  long  and  flat  and  sandy  island."  * 

"In  the  centre  of  this  confused  mass,  the  ivhole  of  the  common 
prisoners  were  placed,  but  were  no  otherwise  attended  to  by  their 
nautical  guard  than  as  they  furnished  the  subjects  of  fun  and 
numberless  quaint  jokes."' 

"  The  ivhole  of  the  commissioners  are  unanimous  in  recommend- 
ing tfce  construction  of  a  reservoir  in  the  mill  valley."  ^ 

"  We  are  more  liable  to  become  acquainted  with  a  man's  faults 
than  with  his  virtues."  » 

"Men  differ  in  their  liability  to  suggestion." ^ 

"  It  is  easy  to  accerfe  something  to  Mr.  Matthews."  ^" 

"  It  is  not  alone  important  but  necessary  to  pronounce  cor- 
rectly." 9 

^  American  novel. 

2  Forster :  Life  of  Swift,  book  i.  chap.  ii. 
8  Resolution  passed  at  a  meeting  of  storkholdera. 
*  Sir  Walter  Scott :  The  Talisman,  chap  xxiii. 
6  The  [London]  Athenaeum,  Feb.  25,  1893,  p.  250. 
^  William  Black:  Yolande,  chap.  xiv. 
'  James  Fenimore  Cooper :  The  Pilot,  chap.  xxx. 
8  The  Nineteenth  Ceutury,  May,  1894,  p.  869. 
^  Student's  theme. 

1"  Augustine  iSirrell :  Men,  Women,  and  Books ;  Americanisms  and 
Briticisms. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  47 

"  'You're  a  scolding,  unjust,  abusive,  agrjravating,  bad  old  crea- 
ture!' cried  Bella."  ^ 

"  Mayor  Hart  predicates  a  majority  for  Greenhalge."  * 

VI.    Each  word 'in  a  phrase  may  be  used  in  its  proper 
sense,  and  yet  the  phrase  taken  as  a  whole  improprieties 
may  imply  a  contradiction  in  terms  that  con-  '"  v^^"- 
stitutes  an  impropriety: — 

"Andrew  Johnson,  the  last  survivor  of  his  honored  predecessors. '  ^ 

"  I  do  not  reckon  that  we  want  a  genius  more  than  the  rest  of 
our  neighbours."  * 

"  We  are  at  peace  with  all  the  world,  and  seek  to  maintain  our 
cherished  relations  of  amity  with  the  rest  of  mankind." 

This  sentence  appeared  in  President  Ta^'lor's  Message  to  Con- 
gress (Dec.  4,  1849)  as  printed  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day.  It 
was  so  much  ridiculed  that  it  was  corrected  in  the  permanent 
official  record,  which  reads  as  follows:  "We  are  at  peace  with  all 
the  other  nations  of  the  world,  and  seek  to  maintain  our  cherished 
relations  of  amity  with  them." 

Some  improprieties,  tiiough  logically  absurd,  are  rhe- 
torically defensible:  — 

"  He  [Cerberus]  was  a  big,  rough,  ugly-looking  monster,  with 
three  separate  heads,  and  each  of  them  fiercer  than  the  two  others."  ^ 

"Adam,  the  (joodliest  man  of  men  since  horn 
His  sons  ;  the  fairest  of  her  daughters,  Eve."^ 

"  On  entering  this  court,  I  am  greeted  with  a  frightful  uproar ; 
a  thousand  instruments,  each  one  more  outlandish  than  the  other,  pro- 
duce the  most  discordant  and  deafening  sounds."^ 

"  Holland  House,  however,  was  the  seat  of  Charles's  boj'hood ; 
and  his  earliest  associations  were  connected  with  its  lofty  avenues, 

*  Dickens :   Our  Mutual  Friend,  book  lii.  chap.  xv. 
'  American  new.spaper. 

'  From  the  Messnge  of  a  President  of  the  United  States. 

*  Swift:  A  Propo.^al  for  Correcting  the  Englisli  Tongue. 

*  Hawthorne  :  Tanglewood  Tales  ;  The  Pomegranate  Seeds. 
'  John  Milton  :   Paradise  Lost,  hook  iv.  line  323. 

'  Henry  M.  Stanley :  Through  the  Dark  Continent,  chap.  ix. 


48  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

its  trim  gardens,  its  broad  stretches  of  deep  grass,  its  fantastic 
gables,  its  endless  vista  of  boudoirs,  libraries,  and  drawing-i ooms, 
each  more  homelike  and  habitable  than  the  last."  ^ 

"  This  made  several  women  look  at  one  another  slyly,  each  know- 
ing more  than  the  others,  and  nodding  while  sounding  the  others' 
ignorance."  ^ 

Evidently,  in  these  instances,  the  literal  statement 
cannot  be  true  ;  but  the  imagination  makes  it  seem  true, 
by  making  each  one  of  the  objects  compared  appear,  at 
the  moment  it  is  looked  at,  superior  to  the  others  in  the 
point  in  question. 


SECTION   m. 

SOLECISMS. 

/ 

As  compared  with  highly  inflected  languages,  English 
undergoes  few  grammatical  changes  of  form.  Its  syn- 
tax is  easily  mastered,  and  for  that  very  reason  is  often 
neglected.  In  conversation,  indeed,  slight  inaccuracies 
may  be  pardoned  for  the  sake  of  colloquial  ease,  and  in 
oratory  fire  tells  for  more  than  correctness ;  but  a  writer 
is  expected  to  take  whatever  time  he  needs  to  make  his 
sentences  grammatical.  Hence,  the  grosser  faults  of  com- 
mon speech  are  avoided  by  good  authors ;  but  even  they 
sometimes  fall  into  constructions  not  English,  —  that  is, 
they  are  guilty  of  solecisms. 

"  Grammar,"  says  De  Quincey,  "is  so  littb  of  a  perfect 
attainment  amongst  us,  that,  with  two  or  three  excep- 
tions (one  being  Shakspeare,^  whom  some  affect  to  con- 

^  G.  O.  Trevelyan  :  The  Early  History  of  Cliarlcs  James  Fox,  chap.  ii. 
2  R.  D.  Blackmore :   Cripps  the  Carrier,  chap.  xii. 
•  Per  contra,  see  lutroduction  to  "A  Shakespearian  Grammar  "  by  £L 
A.  Abbott. 


VIOLATIONS   OF   GOOD    USE.  49 

sider  as  belonging  to  a  semi-barbarous  age),  we  have 
never  seen  the  writer,  through  a  circuit  of  prodigious 
reading,^  who  has  not  sometimes  violated  the  accidence 
or  the  syntax  of  English  grammar."  ^ 

I.  Nouns   of   foreign   origin  are  sometimes  Errors  in  the 

°  ^  use  of  foreign 

used  incorrectly.  'i''"''«- 

Cherub  and  seraph  may  form  their  plural  either  according  to 
the  Hebrew  idiom,  as  cherubim,  seraphim,  or  according  to  the  Eng- 
lish, as  cherubs,  seraphs ;  but  it  is  equally  incorrect  to  speak  of  "  a 
cherubim,"  ^  and  of  "  two  little  cherubims."  * 

A  similar  fault  is  committed  by  Addison  :  "  The  zeal  of  the  ser- 
aphim [Abdiel]  breaks  forth  in  a  becoming  warmth  of  sentiments 
and  expressions,  as  the  character  which  is  given  us  of  him  denotes 
that  generous  scorn  and  intrepidity  which  attend  heroic  virtue."  ^ 

The  elder  Disraeli  says  in  one  place,  "The  Roman  Saturnalia 
were;"  in  another,  "Such  icas  the  Roman  Saturnalia."^  "The 
minulicBs"  and  "the  minulia"  (as  a  plural)  are  sometimes  seen. 
"  In  the  Daili/  News  of  Saturday  last,  April  19th,  we  are  informed 
that  in  the  excavations  at  Luxor  three  new  necmpoli  have  been  dis- 
covered.'"' A  speaker  in  the  House  of  Representatives,  1S77,  said 
that  "  The  lilectoral  Commission  had  made  the  two  Houses  of 
Congress  a  mere  addemla  to  a  conspiracy."  A  college  student 
wrote,  ".4  natural  phenomena  is  under  the  control  of  natural 
law  ; "  another,  "  a  strata ;  "  another,  "  this  fungi.'"  ^ 

II.  The  possessive  case  is  sometimes  used  as  jheposses- 
if  it  were  coextensive  with  the  Latin  genitive.    ^"^  *^^®®* 

*  Query  as  to  the  position  of  this  phrase. 
'  Thomas  De  Quiiicey  :  Essay  on  Style. 

8  Shakspere:  The  Tempest,  act  i.  scene  ii.  Thus  modern  editions: 
the  folio  of  1623  has  chenibin. 

*  George  Eliot:  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Kev.  Amos  Barton,  chap.  L 

6  The  spectator,  No.  327.  , 

"  '.juoted  by  Heury  H.  Breeu :  Modern  English  Literature ;  Its  Blem-  ^ 
ishes  and  Delects. 

'  'Ihe  [London]  Atliena;um,  April  26,  1884,  p.  536. 

8  For  additional  examples,  see  "  ihe  iouudations  of  Rhetoric,"  pp. 
47.  48. 

3 


60  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

"In  modern  English,"  says  Mr.  IMarsh,  "the  inflected  posses- 
sive of  nouns  expresses  ahnost  exclusively  the  notion  of  property 
or  appurtenance.  Hence  we  say  a  man's  hat  or  a  man''s  ham],  but 
the  description  of  a  man,  not  a  man''s  Jescri/)lion.  And,  of  course, 
we  generally  limit  tlie  application  of  tliis  form  to  words  which 
indicate  objects  capable  of  possessing  or  enjoying  the  right  of 
property,  in  a  word,'  to  persons,  or  at  least  animated  and  con 
scious  creatures,  and  we  accordingly  speak  of  a  ivoman's  bonnet, 
but  not  of  a  //o((.>-e'.s  roof.  In  short,  we  now  distinguish  between 
the  possessive  and  the  genitive."  ^ 

The  rule  laid  down  by  Mr.  INIarsh  is  sustained  in  the  main  by 
the  best  modern  usage,  but  it  has  many  exceptions.  Though  we 
should  not  speak  of  a  Ao'/.se'.v  ruof,  there  is  tlie  best  authority  for 
"a  year's  work,"  "a  day's  pleasure,"  "  at  death's  door,"  "  for  con- 
science' sake,"  "  the  law's  delay,"  "  for  mercy's  sake,"  "  for  pity's 
sake."  Though  careful  writers  avoid  in  our  mii/at,  in  our  humble 
midsl,  no  one  hesitates  to  write  "  on  our  account,"  "in  my  absence," 
"to  their  credit,"  "  for  my  sake,"  "in  his  defence." 

Such  expressions,  however,  as  Benninrjlon's  Centennial,^  silcer^s 
death,^  the  Jire's  decastalion,^  London'' s  lije,*  whether  regarded  as 
examples  of  the  objective  genitive  or  of  vicious  personification,  are 
indefensible.* 

Nominative  III.   TliG  object  of  a  veib  is  Rometimes  put  in 

or  objective  .  .  ,  ,..,,.. 

=ase?  the  nominative  case,  the  subject  m  the  objective. 

"Let  theij  who  raise  the  spell  beware  tlie  Fiend." ^ 
"  Thou  Nature,  partial  Nature,  I  arraign  !  " ' 

"Lay  on,  Macduff; 
And  damn'd  be  him  that  first  cries,  '  lioM,  enough! '  "8 

♦'  You  know  as  well  asjue.  that  iie  never  swerves  from  his  i'esc»- 
mtions."9 

1  Query  as  to  the  position  of  "  in  a  word,"  as  punctuated. 

2  Marsh :  Lecture.s  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  xviii. 

^  American  uewspaper.    *  Biography  oi  Disraeli  (anonymous),  chap.  ii. 

*  For  additional  examples,  see  "  The  Foundations  of  Rhetoric,"  ^'p.  iS,  44. 

*  Biilwer  (Lyttou) :   Hichelieu,  act  ii.  scene  i. 
'  Robert  liurns  :  To  iiohert  Graliam. 

8  Shakspere  :  Macbetli,  act  v.  scene  \ai. 

9  Benjamin  Disraeli  :  Couingsby,  book  viii.  chap.  vi. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  51 

«  What  would  be  the  feelings  of  such  a  woman  as  Jier,  were  ths 
world  to  greet  her  some  fine  morning  as  Duchess  of  Omnium  !  "  ^ 

"  On  the  other  side,  we  have  in  the  second  part,  ♦  On  the  Social 
Condition  of  France,'  a  specimen  of  the  style  and  manner  of  Louia 
Blanc,  a  style  which  belongs  to  no  other  than  he."^ 

"  With  a  freedom  more  like  the  milk-maid  of  the  town  than  she^ 
of  the  plains,  she  accosted  him."* 

<'  Now  I  hope  I  shall  demonstrate,  if  not,  it  will  be  by  some  on© 
abler  than  me  demonstrated,  in  the  course  of  this  business,  that 
there  never  was  a  bribe,"  &c.5 

"  He  found  two  French  ladies  in  their  bonnets,  who  he  soon  dis- 
covered to  be  actresses."  ^ 

"  Mrs.  Hemans  and  L.  E.  L.  were  the  favorite  poets  who  young 
ladies  were  expected  to  read."  ^ 

"  Seated  on  an  upright  tombstone,  close  to  him,  was  a  strange 
unearthly  figure,  whom,  Gabriel  felt  at  once,  was  no  being  of  this 
world."  8 

"  'J'hose  whom  he  feels  would  gain  most  advantage  by  being  his 
guests,  should  have  the  first  place  in  his  invitations."' 

"  A  correspondent,  describing  what  he  thinks  the  disastrous 
effects  of  my  advocacy  of  'it  is  me,'  says,  'I  have  heard  persons 
whom  I  knew  were  in  the  habit  of  using  the  form  "it  is  I,"  say 
instead,  "  it  is  me."  '  "  i" 

"  He  entered  the  service  of  Sir  William  Temple,  whom  he  ex- 
pected would  advance  him  by  his  influence."  ^ 

Usage,  however,  iustifies  the  awkward  phrase    _ 
than  whomP' 

1  Anthony  Trollope"  Phineas  Finn,  vol.  ii.  chap.  Hv. 

2  The  [London]  Spectator. 

8  Would  the  substitution  of  her  for  she  remove  th^  difficulty  ? 

*  Scott:  The  Abbot,  a-o1.  i.  chap.  xix. 

6  Burke  :  Speech  in  the  Impeachment  of  AVarren  Hastings. 

8  Disraeli :  Coningsbv,  book  viii.  cliap.  vii. 
"<  Mrs.  Oliphaut ;  The  Sorceress,  chnp.  i. 

3  Dickens :  Pickwick  Papers,  vol.  ii.  cliap.  i.  (\j 

9  Helps :  Social  Pressure,  chap.  x.  ^.^^^ 
i>  Henry  Alford:  The  Queen's  English,  chap.  iv.  sect.  355.J 
11  Student's  theme. 
^2  Professor  Conington,  in  his  translation  of  Virgil,  has  than  who.  \ 


\l 


62  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

"  "Which  when  Beelzebub  perceived,  than  whom, 
Satau  except,  nuue  higher  sat."  ^ 

"  I  am  highly  gratified  by  your  commendatiou  of  Cowper,  than 
whom  there  never  was  a  more  virtuous  or  more  amiable  man."  =* 

"  Two  subjects,  than  ivhoin  none 
Have  been  more  zealous  for  Assyria's  weal."  ' 

IV.  The  emphatic  pronoun  in  -self  is  sometimes  con- 
founded with  the  retiexive.  The  reflexive  pronoun  stands 
Pronouns  in  alouc,  the  cmphatic  is  usually  joined  with  the 
-self.  corresponding  simple  personal  pronoun.  In- 
stances of  misuse  are  :  — 

"  He  told  me  amongst  other  interesting  things,  '  Doctor  Welsh's 
death  was  the  sorest  loss  ever  came  to  the  place,'  that  myself  '  went 
away  into  England  and  —  died  there  I '  "  * 

"  And  then  —  it  was  part  of  his  honest  geniality  of  character  to 
admire  those  who  '  get  on '  in  the  world.  Himsef  had  been,  al- 
most from  boyhood,  in  contact  with  great  affairs."  ^ 

..."  that  long  quiet  life  (ending  at  last  on  the  day  himself 
had  predicted,  a?  if  at  the  moment  he  had  willed)  in  which  '  all 
existence,'  as  he  says,  '  had  been  but  food  for  contemplation.'  "  ^ 

"  Bedford  was  forced  to  be  still  at  times,  for  Bulkeley  was  nine 
inches  taller  than  himself."'' 

V.  Sometimes  a  pronoun  or  an  adjective  is  made  to 
prcnonnwith-  refcr  to  a  word  which  is  suggested    but  not 

out  pnmmati-  j 

cal  antecedent.     expreSSeCl. 

"  He  will  know  more  clearly  and  thoroughly  than  ever  he  knew 
before  that  English  Y^oXKy,  so  far  as  it  is  pro-Turkish,  is  policy  in 
jvhich  she  stands  alone."  ^ 

1  Milton  :  Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  299. 

2  Landor :  Conversations,  Third  Series ;  Southey  and  Person. 
8  Lord  Fivron :  Sardanapalus,  act  ii.  scene  i. 

*  Letters  and  Memorials  of  .Tare  Welsh  Garble,  letter  113. 
6  Walter  Pater:  Macmillan's  Magazine,  March,  1886,  p.  349. 
6  Ibid  :  Appreciations  ;  Sir  Thomas  Browne. 
''  Thackeray  :  Lovel  the  Widower,  chap,  iv, 
8  The  [London]  Spectator. 


VIOLATIONS   OF   GOOD   USE.  53 

"  As  a  text-book,  the  volume  has  one  technical  defect,  —  the 
lines  ought  to  have  been  numbered  either  as  in  the  other  volumes 
or  on  each  page.     Its  absence  is  a  source  of  annoyance."  ^ 

"She  went  up  Grange  Lane  again  cheerful  and  warm  in  her 
sealskin  coat.  It  was  a  thing  that  suited  her  remarkably  well,  and 
corresponded  with  her  character,  and  everybody  knows  how  com- 
fortable they  are."  ' 

"  Though  he  slurred  woman  as  a  sex,  he  loved  some  of  them 
passionately."  * 

"  She  had  not  yet  listened  patiently  to  his  heartrbeats,  but  only 
felt  that  her  own  was  beating  violently."* 

"  The  first  project  was  to  shorten  discourse  by  cutting  polysylla- 
bles into  one.''  ^ 

"  This  one  [a  portrait]  is  rouged  up  to  the  eyes,  and  Madame  du 
Barri  never  wore  an?/  at  all."  * 

"  To-morrow  is  Hospital  Sunday,  and  we  trust  that  it  may  re- 
sult in  a  liberal  subscription  for  those  most  useful  of  London 
charities."' 

"  The  forefinger  of  the  right  hand  touching  successively  those  of 
the  left."  8 

"The  gray  plover,  our  accurate  observer  remarks,  is  a  winter 
shore  bird,  found  only  at  that  season  and  in  that  habitat  in 
this  country."  ' 

"  Luckily,  however,  they  [the  elephants]  did  not  keep  straight 
below  me,  but  a  little  on  one  side;  and  one  huge  animal,  which, 
as  I  could  not  see  those  appendages,  was  probably  a  tuskless  cow, 
came  and  stood  within  ten  yards  of  me-''^*^ 

"  The  captain  saluted  the  quarter-deck,  and  all  the  officers  saluted 
him,  which  he  returned."  ^^ 

1  American  newspaper. 

2  Mrs.  Oliphaat:    Miss  Marjoribanks,  vol.  ii    chap,  xii      Tauchnitz 
edition.  ^  Student's  theme. 

*  George  Eliot :   Middlemarch,  book  ii.  chap.  xxx. 
^  Swift:  Gulliver's  Travels;  Voyage  to  Laputa. 

*  Souvenirs  of  Madame  le  Bruu,  letter  .\. 
'  The  [London]  Spectator. 

'  S<".ott :    Koh  Hoy,  vol.  i.  chap.  xx. 

*  Principal  Sliairp-  T>ife  of  Holiert  Burns,  chap.  V. 
^^  W.  H.  Ponsonby  ;   Large  Animals  in  Africa. 

"  Charles  Keade  :  Hard  Cash,  chap.  vii. 


54  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

VI.  The  pronouns  either,  neither,  the  former,  the  latter^ 
are  sometimes  incorrectly  used.    Each  of  these 

Misuse  of  •' 

^h^^'nner^'''  prououns  properly  signifies  one  of  two  persons 
the  latter.         ^j.  things.     Instauces  of  misuse  are :  — 

"  Dryden,  Pope,  and  Wordsworth  liavo  not  scrupled  to  lay  a 
profane  hand  upon  Chaucer,  a  mightier  genius  than  eilher."'^ 

"Country  journaUsm  offers  better  opportunities  than  e'uJier  of 
the  '  three  learned  professions.'  "  * 

"  Each  of  tlie  three  is  constituted  of  such  genuine  stuff  that 
neither  of  them  ^^■ill  lose  anything  by  having  his  name  thus  early 
brought  to  the  front."  ^ 

"The  most  prominent  among  them  were  Lirarius,  Cassius,  aud 
Brutus,  the  latter  being  Caesar's  dearest  friend."  * 

VIT.  No  error  is  more  common  tlian  that  of  using  a 
Sing-^tbror  word  in  the  singular  instead  of  the  plural  num- 
piurai  ?  j^gj^.^  Q^  jj^  the  plural  instead  of  the  singular. 

Sometimes  this  fault  occurs  in  the  use  of  pronouns. 

«'  She  studied  his  countenance  like  an  inscription,  and  deciphered 
each  rapt  expression  that  crossed  it,  and  stored  iJiem  in  her 
memory."* 

"  Mr.  Rodney  was  generally  silent,  aud  never  opened  his  mouth 
on  this  occasion  except  in  answer  to  an  inquiry  from  his  wife  as  to 
whom  a  villa  might  belong,^  and  it  seemed  always  that  he  knew 
every  villa,  and  every  one  to  whom  they  belonged."^ 

"Everybody  had  been  dull,  but  had  been  kind  in  their  way."'' 

"  Not  a  servant  was  ever  allowed  to  do  anything  for  me  but  what 
it  was  iheir  duty  to  do."* 

"Who  can  judge  of  their  own  heart? "^ 

"  He  assured  us  he  had  known  many  a  man  who  ....  could 

>  Marnh:   Lectures  ou  the  Euglisii  Language,  lect.  v.,  note. 

2  Stuilc'iit's  tliPiiie.  '^  A iiicricaii  newspaper. 

*  Charles  Rcaile  :  Hard  Cash,  chap.  ii. 

»  Is  a  word  omitteil  liere  ^  "  Disraeli :  Endymion,  chap,  xxil 

'  Thackeray  :  Vanity  Fair,  chap.  xH. 

8  Ruskin  .   Practcnta,  vol   i  chap.  ii. 

8  Scott*   Rob  llvy,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 


VIOLATIONS   OF   GOOD   USE.  55 

carry  off  their  six  bottles  under  (heir  belt  quietly  and  comfort- 
ably." 1 

"  The  Mountfords  felt  that  they  had  done  their  utmost  for  any 
guest  of  theirs  when  they  had  procured  them  this  gratification."  ^ 

"  The  parliament  was  assembled ;  and  the  king  made  them  a 
plausible  speech."  ^ 

"  My  mind  at  the  time  was  busy  with  the  matter,  and,  thinking 
that  the  Government  was  right,  I  was  inclined  to  defend  them  as 
far  as  my  small  powers  weut."  * 

Sometimes  a  plural  verb  is  put  with  a  singular  subject, 
or  a  singular  verb  with  a  plural  subject. 

"  Over  liis  face  was  the  bleach  of  death,  but  set  upon  it  was  the 
dark  and  hard  lines  of  desperate  purpose."  ^ 

"  The  numerous  elaborate  bills  which  each  government  of  Eng- 
land  has  in  late  years  attempted  to  pass,  but  generally  without 
success,  is  the  best  indication  of  the  needs  felt."  ^ 

"  Each  of  the  ladies,  like  two  excellent  actresses,  were  perfect  in 
their'  parts."  * 

"  To  do  them  justice,  neither  of  the  sisters  were  very  much  dis- 
pleased." ^ 

"  When  a  thing  or  a  man  are  wanted  they  ^°  generally  appear."  ^* 

"A  harmless  substitute  for  the  sacred  music  which  his  instru- 
ment or  skill  were  unable  to  achieve."  ^^ 

"  Isabel  or  Helena,  wife  no.  1  or  no.  2,  are  sitting  by,  buxom, 
exuberant,  ready  to  be  painted."  ^^ 

"  Neither  law  nor  opinion  superacid  artificial  obstacles  to  the 
natural  ones."  " 

^  Scott:  Eob  Eoy,  vol.  i.  chap.  xii. 

2  Mrs.  Oliphant :  In  Trust,  chap  xiv. 

3  David  Hume:  History  of  England,  vol.  vi.  chap.  Ixvi. 
^  Aothouy  Trollope :  An  Autobiography,  chap.  v. 

*  Arneiirnn  novel  (1896).  °  Tlie  Fortni^jlitly  Review. 

'  See  \i»iie  .54.  *  i-cott :  Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

'  Tliackeiay  :    Vanity  Fair,  chnp.  xxiil. 

'"  See  page  ,54.  "  Disraeli  :   Endymion,  chap  IxxAiii. 

'-  Scoit:   Waverley,  vol.  i.  clinp  xxxiv. 

'^  Thackeray  :   Ronndalxiiit  Papcr<  :    Notes  of  a  Week's  Ilolidny. 
'■*  J.  S.  Mill :   Tlie  Subjection  of  Women,  ciinp.  i. 


56  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

"  No  nation  but  ourselves  have  equally  ^  succeeded  in  both  forms 
of  the  higher  poetry,  epic  and  tragic."  ^ 

"  If  Mr.  Darwin  and  Mr.  Wallace  both  hesitate  to  claim  the 
greater  honour  in  the  discovery,  it  is  to  the  outside  reviewer  a 
matter  of  absolute  impossibility  to  determine  who  ^  of  these  two 
naturalists  have  laboured  the  harder  or  the  more  honestly,  and  is 
the  more  free  from  points  of  attack."  * 

"  All  this  time,  what  was  now,  and  ever,  remarkable  in  Walder- 
share  were  his  manners."  ^ 

When  the  subject  though  plural  in  form  is  singular  in 
sense,  the  verb  should  be  singular ;  when  the  subject 
though  singular  in  form  is  plural  in  sense,  the  verb 
should  be  plural.  Under  this  rule  the  following  sen- 
tences are  correct : — 

"Houses,  not  '  housen,'  is  the  correct  plural." 

"The  news  is  entirely  satisfactory." 

"  Positive  politics  does  not  concern  itself  with  history."  ^ 

"  It  seemed  that  to  waylay  and  murder  the  King  and  his  brother 
was  the  shortest  and  surest  way."  '' 

"It  never  was  any  part  of  our  creed  that  the  great  right  and 
blessedness  of  an  Irishman  is  to  do  as  he  likes."* 

"  The  gold  and  silver  collected  at  the  land-offices  is  sent  to  the 
deposit  banks ;  it  is  there  placed  to  the  credit  of  the  government, 
and  thereby  becomes  the  property  of  the  bank."^ 

The  following  sentence  is  incorrect :  — 

" '  Gulliver's  Travels '  are  Swift's  most  enduring  work."  i" 

*  Is  equallji  in  the  proper  position  ? 
2  De  Qm'ncey  :  Essay  on  Style. 

'  Query  as  to  this  pronoun. 

*  The  [London]  vSpectator. 

*  Disraeli :   Endymion,  chap.  xxii. 

«  Sir  George  C.  Lewis :  Observation  and  Reasoning  in  Politics,  vol.  ii. 
chap.  xxiv.  sect.  xiv. 

"  Macaulay :  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 

*  Matthew  Arnold:  Culture  and  Anarciiy,  chap  ii. 

9  Daniel  \Vel)Ster :  Speech  at  Niblo's  Saloon,  New  York,  March  15, 1837. 
^  Student's  theme. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  57 

A  collective  noun,  when  it  refers  to  the  collection  as 
a  whole,  is  singular  in  sense,  and  therefore  requires  a 
singular  verb ;  when  it  refers  to  the  individual  persons 
or  things  of  the  collection,  it  is  plural  and  requires  a 
plural  verb.  Under  this  rule  the  following  sentences  are 
correct : — 

"  The  numerical  majority  is  not  always  to  be  ascertained  with 
certainty."  ^ 

"  In  early  times  tlie  great  majority  of  the  male  sex  were  slaves."  * 

"  lie  is  shy  of  having  an  opinion  on  a  new  actor  or  a  new  singer; 
for  the  public  do  not  always  agree  with  the  newspapers."  ^ 

"  The  populace  were  now  melted  into  tears."  * 

"  Mankind  have  always  wandered  or  settled,  agreed  or  quarrelled, 
in  troops  or  companies."  ^ 

"The  watch  below  were  busy  in  hanging  out  their  clothes  to 
dry."  « 

The  following  sentences  are  incorrect :  — 

"  The  congregation  was  free  to  go  their  way."' 

"  There  teas  also  a  number  of  cousins,  who  were  about  the  same 
age."  8 

"  Yes ;  what  is  called,  in  the  jargon  of  the  publicists,  the  politi- 
cal problem  and  the  social  problem,  the  people  of  the  United  States 
f/ncs  appear  to  me  to  have  solved,  or  fortune  has  solved  it  ^  for  them, 
with  undeniable  success."^" 

'  Henry  Hallam  :  Constitutional  History. 

2  J.  S.  Mill :  Tlie  Subjection  of  Women,  chap.  i. 

8  William  Hazlitt :  Tlie  Kound  Table,  No.  xlvi.;  On  Commonplace 
Critics. 

*  Hume  :  History  of  England,  vol.  vi.  chap   Ixviii. 

'  A(h\m  Ferguson  :  Essay  on  tlie  History  of  Civil  Society,  sect.  iii. 

8  W.  Clark  Kussell:  The  Sailor's  Sweetheart,  cliap.  xi. 

"  Anthony  Trollo]ie:  Barchester  Towers,  chap.  vi. 

8  Disraeli     Endymioii,  ciiap.  Iii. 

8  Two  prolileins  or  one? 

^'^  Matthew  Arnold  :  A  Word  about  America.  The  Nineteenth  Centnry, 
February,  1885,  p.  222. 


58  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

yill.  Can  is  often  used  where  may  is  the  proper 
word. 

'■  Can  I  trouble  j'ou  to  pass  me  the  butter?" 

"Courses  1,  2,  3  unci  4  are  graded  courses  of  which  uo  two  can 
be  taken  together."  ' 

IX.  No  solecisms  are  more  frequent  than  those  which 
consist  in  the  misuse  of  shall  and  will.  A  person 
who  has  not  been  trained  to  make  the  proper 
distinctions  between  shall  and  will,  should 
and  loould,  never  can  be  sure  of  using  them  correctly ; 
but  he  will  make  few  mistakes  if  he  fixes  firmly  in  his 
mind  that  /  (or  'wc)  shall,  you  will,  lie  (or  they)  will, 
express  simple  futurity,  and  that  I  (or  we)  will,  you 
shall,  he  (or  they)  shall,  imply  volition  on  the  part  of  the 
speaker. 

Some  writers  hold  that  shall  was  the  original  form  of 
the  future,  that  on  grounds  of  courtesy  it  was  changed 
in  the  second  and  the  third  person  to  will,  and  that, 
whenever  courtesy  permits,  shall  is  to  be  preferred  to  ivill. 
It  is  doubtful  whetlier  this  be  the  true  history  of  the 
distinction  between  shall  and  ivill ;  but  at  all  events  the 
doctrine  of  courtesy  furnishes  a  roug!i-and-ready  rule  for 
choice  between  the  two. 

In  "  I  shall,"  shall  is  not  discourteous,  for  the  matter 
is  in  the  hands  of  tlie  person  speaking,  who  cannot  be 
discourteous  to  himself;  shall  is,  then,  in  the  first  person, 
the  proper  anxiliary  to  express  siin])le  futnrity.  In  "  vou 
shall,"  "lie  sluill,"  "they  shall,"  shall,  disregai'ding  the 
feelings  of  the  pei'son  or  jiei'sons  spoken  to  or  sjioken  of, 
expresses  compnlsion  ;  will  is,  then,  in  the  second  and  the 
third  person,  the  proper  word  to  express  simple  futurity. 

'  Catalogue  of  an  American  university. 


VIOLATIONS   OF    GOOD   USE.  59 

As  in  tlie  second  and  the  tliird  person  loill  is  the 
proper  auxiliary  to  express  simple  futurity,  errors  in  the 
second  and  the  third  person  are  rare;  for  the  common 
error  is  the  use  of  will  where  shall  is  the  proper  word. 
As  in  the  first  person  shall  is  the  proper  word  to  express 
simple  futurity,  the  first  person  is  that  in  which  errors 
are  most  frequent. 

The  interro^^mtive  forms  to  express  futurity  are:  "shall 
I  ?  "  "  shall  you  ?  "  "  will  he  ?  "  "  Shall  I  ? ""  and  "  shall 
you  ?  "  manifestly  imply  no  compulsion.  "  Shall  he  ?  " 
does  imply  compulsion:  '*  will  he?"  is  therefore  cor- 
rect. 

The  interrogative  forms  to  express  volition  on  the 
part  of  the  persoTi  represented  by  the  subject  of  the  verb 
are:  "will  your'"  will  he?"  "Will  I?"  would  mean  "is 
it  my  intention?" — an  absurd  question  unless  it  echoes 
the  question  of  another  person. 

Examples  of  the  correct  use  of  shall  and  will  are :  — 

" '  I  will  resign  it ;  for  ever  I  will  resign  it :  and  the  resignation 
must  be  good,  because  1  will  never  many  at  all.  I  will  make  it 
over  to  my  sister,  and  her  heirs  for  ever.  I  shall  have  no  Iieirs  but 
my  brother  and  her ;  and  I  will  receive,  as  of  my  father's  bounty, 
such  an  annuity  ...  as  he  shall  be  plea-sed  to  grant  me.'"^ 

" '  Well,  we  shall  all  miss  you  quite  as  much  as  you  will  miss 
us,'  said  the  master."  2 

"  '  But  as  to  Ravenswood  —  he  has  kept  no  terms  with  me  —  I'll 
keep  none  with  him  —  if  I  can  win  this  girl  from  him,  I  will  win 
her.'     *  Win  her  ?  —  'sblood,  you  i^hall  win  her. '"  ^ 

" '  But  she  shall  have  him  ;  1  will  uuike  her  happy  if  I  break  her 
heart  for  it.'  "  * 

"♦Your  father,  mother,  and  I  will  divide  the  pleasure,  and  thd 

*  Samuel  Kicliardson  :  Clarissa  Il.irlowe,  vol.  i.  letter  Ix. 

2  Thomas  Hughes:  Tom  Brown  at  IJughv,  part  ii.  chap.  viiL 
8  Scott :  The  Hriile  of  Lammermoor,  vol.  i.  chap.  xxi. 

*  George  Colmau :  The  Jealous  Wife,  act  ii.  scene  L 


60  GRAMxMATICAL   PURITY. 

honour,  T  will  again  call  it,  between  us  ;  and  all  past  offenses  shall 
be  forgiven  ;  and  Mr.  Solnies,  we  will  engage,  shall  take  nothing 
amiss  liereafter  of  what  has  X)assed,'  "  ^ 

»  '  Hetty,  your  father  is  below.'  She  sprang  to  her  feet.  *WilI 
you  see  him  V ' 

'Willi  see  him?    Oh  1  Paull'''^ 

When  shall  is  robbed  of  the  compulsory  element  by 
some  other  word  or  words  in  the  context,  it  is  correctly 
used  in  the  second  and  the  third  person  to  express 
simple  futurity.     For  example  :  — 

"  But  if  ye  shall  at  all  turn  from  following  me,  ye  or  your  chil- 
dren, and  will  not  keep  my  commandments  .  .  .  then  will  1  cut 
off  Israel  out  of  the  land  whicii  I  have  given  them."* 

"  He  [Montezuma]  begs  only  that  when  he  shall  relate  his  suf- 
ferings, you  will  consider  him  as  an  Indian  prince."  * 

In  these  exai\iples,  "if  "  and  "when,"  by  introducing  a  condi- 
tional element,  take  away  the  idea  of  compulsion. 

The  rule  of  courtesy  may  easily  be  applied  to  sentences 
consisting  of  a  principal  and  a  dependent  clause. 

When  both  clauses  have  the  same  subject,  there  is 
no  question  of  courtesy,  for  the  matter  is  manifestly  in 
the  hands  of  the  person  or  persons  represented  by  the 
subject.  In  such  cases,  therefore,  slicdl  is,  in  all  three 
persons,  the  proper  auxiliary  to  express  simple  futuiity, 
as,  —  "  I  think  that  I  shall,"  "you  think  that  you  shall," 
"he  thinks  tliat  he  shall." 

When  the  two  clauses  have  different  subjects,  the 
auxiliary  to  express  futurity  in  the  dependent  clause  is 
that  which  would  be  used  if  the  clause  in  the  same  form 
were  independent,  as,  —  "  you  think  (or  he  thinks)  that 

•  Richartlsoii:  Clarissa  Harlowe,  vol.  i.  letter  Ix. 
2  'Walter  Besant;   Herr  Paulus,  chap.  xix. 

•  1  Kings,  ix.  6,  7. 

•  Drydeu:  The  ludian  Emperor;  Dedication. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  6 J 

I  shall,"  "  I  think  (or  he  thinks)  that  you  will,"  "  I  think 
(or  you  think)  that  he  will."  The  following  sentences 
are  correct :  — 

"  '  You,  my  dear,'  said  she,  'believe  you  shall  be  unhappy, if  you 
have  Mr.  Solmes :  your  parents  think  the  contrary ;  and  that  you 
will  be  undoubtedly  so  were  you  to  have  Mr.  Lovelace.' "  ^ 

la  "  you  believe  [that]  you  shall,"  "  you  believe  "  shows  that 
the  matter  is  in  the  hands  of  the  person  represented  by  the  subject 
of  both  clauses,  viz.,  Clarissa;  shall  is  therefore  correct.  When, 
however,  the  subject  of  the  pi'incipal  clause  changes  to  the  parents, 
courtesy  demands  will  in  the  dependent  clause. 

"  And  then  he  has  got  it  into  his  head  that  you  will  never  for- 
give him  ;  and  that  he  shall  be  cast  in  prison,  if  he  shows  his  face 
in  Cumberland."  2 

"In  Scripture,"  says  Dr.  Angus,  "'shall'  is  a  common 
form  of  the  future,  where,  if  we  were  speakitig  of  '  earthly 
things,'  *  will '  would  be  more  suitable.  ...  A  human 
will  is  not  in  such  cases  the  originating  or  controlling 
cause ;  thus,  '  Thou  shalt  endure,  and  thy  years  shall  not 
change : '  '  The  righteous  shall  hold  on  his  way,  and  he 
that  hath  clean  hands  shall  wax  stronger  and  stronger.' 
Of  course  these  '  shalls '  are  sometimes  wrongly  empha- 
sized, and  are  liable  to  be  mistaken.  But  they  are  less 
ambiguous  than  '  will '  would  be.  They  are  to  be  read 
without  emphasis,  except  when  found  in  commands,  or 
when  representing  verbs  which  imply  obligation.  They 
are  simply  future  forms,  intimating  that  the  thing  luill 
he.  Eegular  futures  uninfluenced  in  form  by  human 
fears  or  courtesies  or  doubts,  they  may  be  called."  ^ 

The  futures  of  which  Dr.  Angus  speaks  are  not  con- 
fined to  Scripture.     They  may  be  used  by  any  writer  in 

'  Richardson :  Clarissa  Harlowe,  vol.  ii.  letter  vi. 

2  Charles  Reade  :  Griffith  Gaunt,  chap,  xliii. 

*  Joseph  Angus  :  Handbook  of  the  English  Tongue,  chap.  vi.  301. 


62  GRAMMATICAL   TURITY. 

speaking  of  that  which  is  destined  to  take  place,  and 
into  which  therefore  the  idea  of  courtesy,  or  of  dis- 
courtesy, does  not  enter.     For  example:  — 

"  The  person  who  will  bear  much  shall  have  much  to  bear  all 
the  world  thi-ough."  ^ 

Akin  to  the  use  of  shall  in  speaking  of  what  is  destined 
to  take  place,  is  its  use  in  the  second  and  the  third  person 
to  express  a  promise.     For  example :  — 

"  You  shall  have  gold 
To  pay  the  petty  debt  twenty  times  over."  ^ 

"  For  he  shall  give  his  angels  charge  over  thee,  to  keep  thee  in 
all  thy  ways."* 

Will  is  by  courtesy  used  for  shall  in  official  letters  of 
direction,  military  orders,  etc. :  — 

War  Department,  August  28,  1861. 

Colonel  David  K.  Wardwell,  Boston,  Mas.s. 

Sir,  —  You  will  report  to  his  Excellency  the  Governor  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, from  whom  you  will  receive  instructions  and  orders  in 
reference  to  the  regiment  which  this  Department  has  authorized 

you  to  raise. 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War, 

James  Lesley,  Jr., 
Chief  Clerk,  War  Department.* 

Hiram  Kilbt,  Esq.,  U.  S.  Attorney,  New  London,  Ct. 

Sir,  —  I  enclose  you  a  copy  of  a  letter  this  day  received  by  me 
fi-om  the  Secretary  of  State. 

You  will  be  on  the  watch,  and  careful  to  see  that  the  neutrality 

law  is  not  violated. 

Very  respectfully,  etc. " 

James  Speed,  Atty.  Genl.^ 

*  Richardson  :  Clarissa  Harlowe,  vol.  i.  letter  x. 

*  Shakspere  :  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  iii.  scene  ii. 
'  Psalm  xci.  2. 

*  John  A.  Andrew:  Addresses  and  Messages;  Recruiting  of  Tr."'ops. 
House  Doc.  No.  1 8. 

*  Alabama  Claims :  The  Counter  Case  of  the  United  States,  part  ij  p.  9. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD   USE.  63 

Should  and  would  follow  the  same  rules  as  sJiall  and 
will,  but  tliey  have  in  addition  certain  meanings  pecu- 
liarly their  own. 

Should  is  sometimes  used  in  its  original  sense  of 
"  ought,"  as  in  "  You  should  not  do  that ; "  sometimes 
in  a  conditional  sense,  as  in  "  Should  you  ask  me  whence 
these  stories ; "  ^  and  after  "  lest,"  as  in  "  He  tied,  lest  he 
should  be  imprisoned." 

Would  is  sometimes  used  to  signify  habitual  action, 
as  in  "  The  'Squire  would  sometimes  fall  asleep  in  tha 
most  pathetic  part  of  my  sermon , "  2  and  to  express  a 
wish,  as,  "  Would  God  I  had  died  for  thee,  0  Absalom, 
my  son,  my  son  \"^ 

In  the  following  sentences  will  and  would  are  used 
incorrectly :  — 

"  Let  the  educated  men  consent  to  hold  office,  and  we  will  find 
that  in  a  few  years  there  will  be  a  great  change  in  politics."  * 

"  As  long  as  they  continue  to  shun  such  a  life,  so  long  will  we 
continue  to  have  corruption  and  misery."  ^ 

"  Often  a  young  man  does  not  go  to  college,  because  he  is  afraid 
that  he  toill  be  raised  above  his  business."  * 

"I  would  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  see  to  this. 
I  toould  hate  to  fail  in  this  course."  ^ 

"  I  would  not  have  wanted  help,  if  the  place  had  not  been 
destroyed."  ^ 

"  The  rats  were  rather  more  mutinous  than  I  icould  have  ex- 
pected ;  and  if  there  had  been  shutters  to  that  grated  \vindow,  or 
a  curtain  to  the  bed,  I  should  think  ^  it,  upon  the  whole,  au 
improvement."  ' 

^  H.  W.  Longfellow  :  The  Song  of  Hiawatha ;  Introduction. 
3  Goldsmith  :  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  rhap.  i. 
'  2  Samuel  xviii.  33.  ^  American  newspaper. 

'  Student's  theme. 

*  Student's  letter.  '  A  recent  novel  of  Irish  life. 
^  Query  aI)out  the  sequence  of  tenses. 

*  Scott :  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  vol.  i.  chap.  viii. 


64  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

"  This  Siren  song  of  ambition  has  charmed  ears  that  we  would 
have  thought  were  never  organized  to  tliat  sort  of  music."  ^ 

"  Now,  I  would  have  thought  that  these  were  just  the  people  wlio 
should  have  been  the  most  welcome."  ^ 

"  She  had  a  modest  confidence  that  she  would  not  lose  her  head."^ 

Incorrect  X.    Sometimes  a  writer  uses  a  tense  which 

does  not  indicate  the  time  of  the  action  or  event 
spoken  of. 

"  It  is  only  bare  justice  ...  to  say  that  James  might  have 
made  his  way  to  the  throne  with  comparative  ease  if  he  would 
only  consent  to  change  his  religion  and  become  a  Protestant."  * 

"If  a  change  of  administration  is  produced  by  the  first  move- 
ments of  the  Iloiisa  of  Commons,  as  I  think  it  probably  will,^  and 
I  refuse  to  take  office,  —  or  if,  having  been  present  at  first,  I  tcent 
away,  —  the  attack  upon  me  would  be  just  the  same."  ^ 

"In  Ids  subtle  capacity  for  enjoying  the  more  refined  points  of 
earth,  of  human  relationship,  he  could  throw  the  gleam  of  poetry 
or  humour  on  what  seemed  common  or  threadbare;  has  a  care  for 
the  sighs,  and  the  weary,  humdrum  preoccupation  of  very  weak 
people,  down  to  their  little  pathetic  'gentilities,'  even;  while,  in 
tlie  purely  human  tempei-,  he  can  write  of  death,  almost  like 
Shakspere."' 

"  Antithesis,  therefore,  may  on  many  occasions  be  employed  to 
advantage,  in  order  to  strengthen  the  impression  which  we  intend 
that  any  object  xhonhl  mnke.'"^ 

"It  was  almost  inevitable  that  divisions  should  have  taken  place. "'^ 

^  Burke:  Speech  at  Bristol,  1780.  Quoted  in  John  Morley's  'Life  of 
Burke,"  chap.  iv.     English  Men  of  Letters  Series. 

2  A  recent  novel  of  New  York  life 

^  Mrs.  (lliphant:   Miss  Marjijril)anks,  clinp.  xviii. 
*  Justin  McCarthy:   A  History  of  the  Four  Georges,  vol.  i.  chap.  i. 
^  Is  a  word  omitted  here  ? 

^  Earl  Spencer,  in  a  letter  to  Lord  Holland:  Le  Marchant's  "Life  of 
Lord  Althorp,"  chap,  xxiii 

^  Pater:  Appreciations;  Charles  Lamb. 
8  Hugh  Rlair  :    Rhetoric,  lect.  xvii. 

3  W.  E.  H.  Lecky  :  History  of  England  in  the  Eighteenth  Century, 
vol.  i.  chap.  iii. 


VIOLATIONS   OF  GOOD   USE.  65 

"  The  Prince  was  apprehensive  that  AVaverley,  if  set  at  liberty, 
tnighl  have  resumed  his  purpose  of  returning  to  England."  ^ 

"  The  old  man  thouglit  that  the  morning,  for  which  he  longed, 
would  never  hdue  dutcned."'^ 

"  The  town  of  Leghorn  has  accidentally  done  what  the  greatest 
fetch  of  politics  would  have  found  difficult  to  hace  hrouykl  ahout."  ^ 

"Besides  that,  this  would  have  given  no  jealousy  to  the  princes 
their  neighbours,  who  would  have  enjoyed  their  own  dominions  in 
peace,  and  have  been  very  well  contented  to  hate  seen  so  strong 
a  bulwark  against  all  the  forces  and  invasions  of  the  Ottoman 
empire."  * 

"  '  1  wanted  to  have  asked  you  at  the  beginning  of  dinner.'  "  ^ 

"Mr.  Stockton  had  again,  in  part  at  least,  expressed  the  exact 
thing  which  in  other  words  he  was  going  to  have  said  himself."  ^ 

"  I  should  have  been  glad  to  have  been  able  to  furnish  some  ex- 
amples from  my  reading,  but  I  have  very  little  to  draw  I'rom."'^ 

Li  each  of  the  last  five  examples,  the  time  expressed  by  the 
infinitive  is,  relatively  to  the  time  expressed  by  the  main  verb, 
present;  the  mfinitive  should  therefore  be  the  present  infinitive. 

"It  [the  Calves'  Head  Club]  was  said  by  obscure  pamphleteers 
to  be  founded  by  John  Milton."  * 

In  this  example,  the  time  expressed  by  the  infinitive  is,  relatively 
to  the  time  expressed  by  the  main  verb,  past ;  the  infinitive  should 
therefore  be  the  perfect  infinitive. 

Some  mistakes  come  from  neglect  of  the  principle  that 
a  general  proposition,  into  which  the  notion  of  time 
does  not  enter,  should  usually  be  in  the  present  tense, 
whatever  the  tense  of  the  verb  on  which  it  depends. 

"The  doctor  affirmed  that  fever  always proc/uce^/  thirst."' 

^  Scott:   Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap  xxix. 

^  Ibid.  :  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  vol.  ii.  chap.  vi. 

*  Jo.«eph  Addi.son  :   Remarks  on  Italy;  Sienua,  Leghorn,  Pisa. 

*  Ibid.  ■■  Hemark.s  on  Italy  ,  Venice. 

*  W.  H.  Mallock  :  Tlie  New  Republic,  book  i.  chap.  iii. 

*  Ibid.,  book  iv.  ch.ip.  ii.  '  Student's  theme. 

*  McCarthy  .-  A  Ilist(^ry  of  the  Fonr  Georges,  vol,  i.  chap.  i. 

*  Quoted  by  Goold  Brown  :  The  Grammar  of  Euglish  Grammars,  rule 
xvii.  example  under  note  xv. 


66  GRAMMATICAL  PUKITY. 

XL  Sometimes  the  indicative  mood  is  used  where 
Indicative  or  the  subjuiictive  is  preferable,  and,  less  fre- 
subjuiictive  quently,  the  subjunctive  where  the  indicative 
is  preferable.  In  modern  English  the  distinction  between 
the  two  is  that  the  subjunctive  implies  much  more  doubt 
than  the  indicative. 

"  Liurelia.  To-morrow  before  dawn, 
Ceiici  will  take  us  to  that  lonely  rock, 
Petrella,  ia  the  Apuliau  Apeuuiues. 
If  he  arrive  there  ... 

Beatrice.    He  must  not  arrive."  ^ 

As  Lucretia  expects  her  husband  to  be  murdered  before  he  can 
reach  Petrella,  the  subjunctive  may  be  understood  as  implying 
strong  doubt  of  his  arrival. 

Even  in  cases  in  which  strong  doubt  is  implied,  the 

present  subjunctive  is  apparently  used  less  and  less.     A 

century  or  even  a  generation  ago  it  was  common  in  cases 

in  which  no  expression  of  opinion  was  intended.     Thus 

we  read  in  the  Constitution  of  the  United  States :  — 

"Every  Bill  which  shall  have  passed  the  House  of  Representa- 
tives and  the  Senate,  shall,  before  it  become  a  Law,  be  presented  to 
the  President  of  the  United  States ;  if  he  approi-e  he  shall  sign  it." 

In  the  following  sentence  from  Lamb,  the  subjunctive 

is,  according  to  modern  usage,  incorrect.     It  is  evident, 

however,  that  Lamb  is  purposely  writing  in  an  antiquated 

style. 

"  If  my  pen  treat  of  you  lightly,  yet  my  spirit  hath  gravely  felt 
the  wisdom  of  your  customs."  '•^ 

The  past  subjunctive  is  now  recognized  as  such  in  the 
verb  "  be  "  alone,  that  being  the  only  verb  in  which  the 
past  subjunctive  has  a  distinct  form.     A  common  error  is 

^  Percy  Bysslie  Slielley :    The  Cenci,  act  iii.  scene  i. 
2  Quoted  hy  Jolni  Karle  (English  I'rose,  cliap.  ii  )  in  an  extract  from  a 
lecture  by  rrofessor  Sonueuscheiu  of  the  Mason  College. 


VIOLATIONS  OF  GOOD  USE.  67 

the  use  of  the  indicative  was  for  the  subjunctive  were  in 
suppositions  contrary  to  fact.     For  example:  — 

'"  Half-past  one,  time  for  dinner  !  ' 

'  I  only  wish  it  was,'  the  March  hare  said  to  itself  in  a 
whisper."  i 

"  When  you  are  possessed  by  an  eager  desire  for  the  enrichment 
of  another,  it  does  not  seem  a  bad  or  selfish  object  as  it  might  do 
if  the  person  to  be  benefited  was  yourself." - 

"  She  seemed  as  if  she  was  going  to  speak  when  just  then  a  ser- 
vant came  up  stairs."  ^ 

In  England  this  use  of  the  indicative  is  found  in  good 
authors  and  seems  to  be  gaining  ground. 

XII.   An  adverb  is  sometimes  put  for  an  Adverb  or 
adjective,  or  an  adjective  for  an  adverb,  ''*°  '"^ 

"Our  hitherto  reforms."  * 

"Sentimental  and  otherwise."  ^ 

"  To  the  almost  terror  of  the  persons  present,  INIacaulay  began 
with  the  senior  wrangler  of  lSOl-2,  3,  4,  and  so  on."  ^ 

"  Lady  Russell  had  fresh  arranged  all  her  evening  engage- 
ments." "^ 

"  The  father  made  rapidly  the  sign  of  the  cross  over  that 
thoroughbred  head  and  golden  hair  and  blessed  her  business-like."  ^ 

The  question  whether  to  use  an  adjective  or  an  adverb 
with  a  verb  is  in  every  case  to  be  determined  by  the 
rules  of  thought  rather  than  by  those  of  grammar.  The 
principle  is,  that  the  adverb  should  be  used  wheft  the  in- 
tention is  to  qualify  the  verb,  the  adjective  when  the 
intention  is  to  qualify  the  noun.     It  is  safe  to  join  the 

1  Lewis  Carroll :  Alices  Adventures  in  "Wonderland,  chap.  vii. 

2  Mrs.  niiphant :   In  Trust,  chap.  x. 

*  Mrs   Molesworth  :  Tiie  Tapestry  Room,  chap.  vi. 

*  The  Nineteenth  Century.        ^  Thackeray  :  Vanity  Fair,  chap.  xiii. 
8  It)in. :  Roundabout  Tapers ;    Nil  Nisi  Bonum. 

^  Miss  Austen  :  Persuasion,  chap.  v. 

8  Charles  Reade;  Griffith  Gaunt,  chap.  viL 


68  GRAMMATICAL   PURITY. 

adjective  with  a  verb  for  which  the  corresponding  form 
of  to  he  or  to  seem  may  be  substituted.  We  say,  for  ex- 
ample: "The  sea  looks  rough"  and  "The  winds  treat 
him  roughly;"  "His  voice  sounds  soft"  and  "He  speaks 
softly;"  "How  sweet  the  moonlight  sleeps"  and  "How 
sweetly  she  sings;"  "He  looks  lierce"  and  "He  looks 
fiercely  at  his  rival."  We  do  not,  however,  say  "  He  looks 
good "  or  "  He  looks  had"  good  and  bad  being  in  such 
cases  ambiguous. 

XIII.   The  wrong  preposition  is  sometimes 

The  wrong  ^..j-^i.  ori. 

preposition.         ^^^^^ 

"  The  greatest  masters  of  critical  learning  differ  among  one 
another."  * 

«  He  was  so  truly  struck  hetween  the  junction  of  the  spine  with 

the  skull."  2 

"Slowly  he  brought   out  his  sentences,  pausing  between  each 

one."  3 

"  There  does  not  seem  to  have  been  any  particular  difference 
made  between  the  treatment  of  the  three  persons  who  were  crucified 
on  Calvary."  * 

"  This  we  turned  over  and  over,  for  a  while,  acknowledging  its 
prettiness,  but  concluded  it  to  be  rather  too  fine  and  sentimental  a 
name  (a  fault  inevitable  by  literary  ladies,  in  such  attempts)  for 
sunburnt  men  to  work  under."  ^ 

"  The  distances  to  it  were  long,  and  the  rides  in  Cranby  AVood 
—  the  big  wood  —  were  not  adapted /or  wheels."  ® 

"Suddenly  INIabel  Howard  appeared  to  Evelake  and  warned 
him /ram  some  impending  danger."^ 

"  Grammar  concerns  itself  o/ right  and  wrong ;  rhetoric  concerns 
itself  of  better  and  worse."' 

1  The  Spectator,  No.  .321. 

2  Scott :  The  Bride  of  Lammennoor,  vol.  i.  chap.  v. 
8  Mrs.  W.  K.  Clifford  :  Aunt  Anne,  chap.  xx. 

*  J.  Fitzjames  Stephen :  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity,  chap.  ii. 

6  Hawthorne  .  The  Blithedale  Romance,  chap.  v. 

6  Authony  Trolloiie .-  Cau  You  Forgive  Her  ■?  chap.  xvi. 

'  Student's  theme. 


VIOLATIONS   OF  GOOD  USE.  69 

«  The  independence  of  the  Irish  on  the  English  parliament."  * 

"  Thomas  Cox  was  buried  and  suffocated  throuyh  a  well  caving 
in  at  Lrowell."  - 

"'Well,'  said  Miss  Polly,  'he's  grown  quite  another  creature 
to  what  lie  was.'  '^ 

"  The  silence  and  apathy  of  a  Grecian-browed,  velvet-eyed  divin- 
itv  is  construed  in  quite  a  different  manner  to  the  interpretation 
put  on  tne  identical  phenomena  when  exhibited  by  podgy  though 
admirable  members  of  the  same  sex."  * 

"Yet  the  unswerving  resolution  was  accompanied  with  continu- 
ally varying  phases  of  anguish."  ^ 

XIV.  An  adverb  or  adverbial  phrase  is  sometimes 
placed  between  ^0  and  the  infinitive.    Although   Adverb  with 

, ,  .  .  ,         ,  ,  T   .  the  infinitive. 

there  is  a  growing  tendency  to  use  this  con- 
struction, careful  writers  avoid  it.^ 

..."  to  an  active  mind  it  may  be  easier  to  bear  along  all  the 
qualifications  of  an  idea,  and  at  once  rightly  form  it  when  named, 
than  loJirsL  imperfeclhj  cunccice  such  idea."'' 

"Whether  or  not,  with  the  example  of  Johnson  himself  before 
us,  we  can  think  just  that,  it  is  certain  that  Browne's  works  are  of 
a  kind  in  direclbi  stimulnie  curiosity  about  himself."  ^ 

"  He  tried  (o  hndily  assault  me."  ^ 

"  And  in  all  those  regions  it  was  the  custom  of  the  farmer  and 
his  family  —  his  wife,  his  sons,  and  his  daughters  —  to  person/dh/, 
strsituousli/  perform  the  duties  and  functions  pertaining  to  the  field, 
the  stable,  the  dairy,  the  orchard,  and  the  kitchen."" 

"  To  balloon.     To  fraudulent! jj  inflate  prices."  ^^ 

1  John  Lingnrd  :   History  of  Englaml.  ^  American  newspaper. 

8  Miss  Buriioy  :  Evelinn,  letter  xliv. 

'  E.  F.  Benson  :  Tlie  Kul)icon,  hool^  i.  chap.  iii. 

5  George  Eliot :   Komola,  cliap.  xxxvi. 

6  For  a  discussion  of  this  question,  see  "  The  Foundations  of  Rhetoric,", 
pp.  136-140. 

''  IIerl)ert  Spencer:  The  Pliilosophy  of  Style. 

8  Pater:  Ai)preciations;  Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

9  Letter  in  an  American  newspaper.  ^''  American  periodical. 
^  T.  Baron  Russell :  Current  Americanisms. 


70  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

" '  Such  a  feeling  is  not  unnatural,'  said  the  Doctor ;  '  but  you 
will  find  it  vanish  if  you  just  resolve  cheerfully  to  go  on  doing  the 
duty  next  you  —  even  if  this  be  to  only  order  dinner.'  "  i 

"  You  are  further  requested  to  not  return  to  your  usual  avo- 
cations." ^ 

"  Nor  .  .  .  was  it  wholly  satisfactory  to,  clay  after  day,  month 
after  month,  act  and  react  the  parts  she  had  acquired  with  as  mucii 
conscientiousness  as  if  chairs  were  people."^ 

XV.     Double    negatives,   though    no   longer  in   good 
use,  are  still  occasionally  found  in  reputable 

Double  nega- 

tive3.  authors. 

■  "One  whose  desires  and  impulses  are  not  his  own  has  no  char- 
acter, no  more  than  a  steam-engine  has  a  character."  * 
"What  is  it?    Greenbacks?     ^o,  nolihoae,  neilher."^ 

XVI.   Words  necessary  to  the  construction 
Omissions.       ^^^  gometimes  omitted. 

"  His  features,  which  Nature  had  cast  in  a  harsh  and  imperious 
mould,  were  relieved  by  a  constant  sparkle  and  animation  such  as 
1  have  never  seen  in  any  other  man,  but  /^  in  him  became  ever  more 
conspicuous  in  gloomy  and  perilous  times."  ^ 

..."  there  too  the  inclination  of  the  teaching,  in  the  matter 
of  the  ways  and  means  of  dealing  with  crime  and  misery,  is  always 
towards  what  is  commonly  called  'the  sentimental,'  but /y  some 
would  call  'the  Christian.'"'' 

"He  then  addressed  to  his  troops  a  few  words  of  encourage- 
ment, as  f^  customary  with  him  on  the  eve  of  an  engagement."  ^ 

"  There  was,  however,  no  cause  for  alarm  ;  it  was  not  a  stumble, 
nor  a  false  step;  and,  if  it  had  y\,  the  fair  Amazon  had  too  much 
self-possession  to  have  been^  deranged  by  it."^<* 

1  Mallock:  The  New  Republic,  book  i.  chap.  iii. 

2  Kuisjjhts  of  Labor  manifesto.     For  avocations,  see  page  39. 

3  Aineriiaii  perioilieal.  *  J.  S.  Mill:  Ou  Liberty. 
6  Ruskin  ■  Tho  Crown  of  Wild  Olive  ;  Traffic. 

6  S.  J.  Weyman :   A  Gentleman  of  France,  cbap.  ii. 

'  David  Mapson  :  De  Quimey,  chap.  xi.    Fngli.-h  Men  of  Letters  Seriea 

8  W.  n.  Prescott:  The  Conquest  of  Mexico,  book  v.  chap.  iv. 

9  See  page  65.  ^"  Scott :  Rob  Roy,  vol.  1.  chap.  v. 


VIOLATIONS   OF   GOOD   USE.  71 

"  This  dedication  may  serve  for  almost  any  Dook  that  has  j^,  its, 
or  stall  be  published."* 

"  He  seemed  rather  to  aim  at  gaining  the  doubtful,  than  ^  morti- 
fying or  crushing  the  hostile."  ^ 

"  'f  you  want  something  done,  write  ^  your  Senator."  ^ 

"The  use  of  this  envelope  will  help  prevent  letters  /^  bemg 
sent  to  ^  Dead  Letter  Office,  if  properly  filled  out."* 

"It  was  universally  agreed  that  Mr.  Ferrars  had  never  recov- 
ered n  the  death  of  his  wife."  ^ 

"  His  letters  recommenced,  as  frequent  f^  and  rather  more  serious 
and  business-like  than  of  old."  ^ 

The  insertion  of  "  as "  after  "  as  frequent,"  without  other 
change,  would  make  this  sentence  clumsy,  it  would  be  better  to 
write,  "as  frequent  as  of  old,  and  rather  more  serious  and  busi- 
ness-like." The  next  three  sentences  should  be  recast  in  a  similar 
way :  — 

"  The  English  are  quite  as  ancient  a  people  as  the  Germans,  and 
their  language  is  as  old  a  if  not  older  than  German."^ 

"  A  country  as  wild  perhaps  y^,  but  certainly  differing  greatly  in 
point  of  interest,  from  that  which  we  now  travelled."* 

"And  this  can  be  done  now  as  well^  —  better  rather  —  than  at 
any  former  time."^ 

"  ]Meanwhile  a  warm  discussion  took  place,  ^  who  should  under- 
take the  perilous  task."  i" 

"The  King  took  the  money  of  France,  to  assist  him  in  the  enter- 
prise which  he  meditated  against  the  liberty  of  his  subjects,  with 
as  little  scruple  as  ^  Frederick  of  Prussia  or  Alexander  of  Russia 
accepted  our  subsidies  in  a  time  of  war."  ^^ 

1  Cited  in  Campbell's  'Rhetoric. 

2  Lord  Dalliiig  and  Biibver:  Life  of  Sir  Robert  Peel,  part  iv. 
s  American  newspaper. 

*  U.  S.  Post  Office  Notice.     Query  as  to  the  position  of  the  last  clause 
^  Disraeli :  Endymion,  chap.  xxix. 

*  Trevelyan  :  Life  and  T,etters  of  Macanhav,  vol.  i.  chap.  v. 
^  Ricliard  Morris:   Primer  of  English  Grammar,  chap.  i. 

8  Scott:  Rob  Roy,  vol.  ii.  chap.  vi. 

9  Mallock:  Tlie  New  Rey)iihlic,  book  i.  chap.  iii. 
^'  Scott:  A  Legend  of  Montrose,  cliap.  viii. 

^  Macaulay:  Essays;  Hallam's  Constitutional  History. 


72  GRAMMATICAL  PURITY. 

"  It  is  asked  in  what  sense  i  use  these  words.  I  answer :  in  the 
same  sense  as  ^  tne  terms  are  employed  when  we  reier  to  tuciid 
for  the  elements  of  the  science  of  geometry,"  &c.^ 

..."  the  good  which  mankind  always  have  sought  and  aiways 
will /^."  2 

"  I  have  made  no  alteration  or  addition  to  it,  nor  shall  I, 
ever /y."  8 

"  I  shall  do  all  I  can  to  persuade  all  others  to  take  the  same 
measures  for  their  cure  which  I  have  /^.''* 

Such  omissions  as  those  in  the  last  three  examples  are  of  a 
somewhat  different  character  from  those  that  precede  them.  The 
omission  is  easily  supplied  from  the  context;  and  it  occurs  at  the 
end  of  a  sentence,  where  it  is  least  offensive  and  where  an  addi- 
tional word  might  offend  the  ear  or  retard  the  flow  of  thought. 
In  such  cases  good  authors  now  and  then  allow  themselves  to  omit 
words"  that  are  necessary  to  the  construction  ;  but  inexperienced 
writers  cannot  safely  take  such  liberties  with  the  language.  Those 
only  who  have  mastered  the  rules  of  grammar  have  the  right  to 
set  them  aside  on  occasion. 

The  reader  of  the  foregoing  pages  will  have  observed 
that  the  principles  which  determine  what  is  and  what  is 
DifBcuityin  ^^^^  P^^'®  English  are  few  and  simple,  and  that 
prinSesof  t^i®  practical  difficulty  for  an  inexperienced 
good  use.  writer  consists  in  the  application  of  those 
principles  to  the  case  in  hand.  This  difficulty,  it  is 
obvious,  is  enhanced  by  th-e  fact  that  English  is  not  a 
dead  language,  but  a  language  which  is  thoroughly  alive, 
and  which,  like  other  living  things,  grows  in  ways  that 
cannot  be  foreseen  and  changes  as  it  grows.  Difficult  as 
it  sometimes  is  to  determine  what  is  good  English  to-day, 
it  is  still  more  difficult  to  conjecture  what  will  be  good 
English  in  the  next  generation. 

1  Samuel  T.  Coleridge:  Church  and  State.  Quoted  in  Fitzedward 
Hall's  "Modern  English," 

2  The  Quarterly  Uevicw.         «  J.  S.  Mill :  Autobiography,  chap.  viL 
*  Sir  Richard  Steele :  The  Guardian,  No.  1. 


VIOLATIO^;S   OF   GOOD   USE.  73 

Since,  then,  any  one  man's  observation  of  the  language 
as  it  exists  is  far  from  complete,  and  since  his  inferences 
from  what  he  observes  may  be  questioned,  a  writer  on 
this  subject  cannot  be  <^oo  careful  ret  to  express  himself 
as  if  his  knowledge  were  complete  or  his  judgment  un- 
erring,—  as  if  he  were  a  lawgiver  instead  of  a  humble 
recorder  of  decisions  made  by  his  betters.  In  so  far  as 
he  confines  himself  to  his  business,  he  is  of  service  to 
others  ;  in  so  far  as  he  sets  himself  up  as  an  authority,  he 
misleads  in  one  way  those  who  accept  him  as  such,  in 
another  way  those  who  do  not.  Those  who  accept  his 
judgments  are  in  danger  of  writing,  not  good  English, 
but  his  English ;  those  who  do  not  accept  them  mav  be 
so  disgusted  by  his  pretensions  as  to  contemn  all  efforts 
CO  leach  them  what  really  is  good  use. 


BOOK  11. 

RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE, 


CHAPTEE  L 

CHOICE    OF    WORDS. 

The  efficiency  of  all  communication  by  language  must 
depend  on  three  things:  (1)  the  choice  of  those  words 
that  are  best  adapted  to  convey  to  the  persons  addressed 
the  meaning  intended;  (2)  the  use  of  as  many  words  as 
are  needed  to  convey  the  meaning,  but  of  no  more ; 
(3)  the  arrangement  of  words,  sentences,  and  paragraphs 
in  the  order  most  likely  to  communicate  the  meaning. 

A  writer  should  have  not  only  ideas  to  express,  but 
words  with  wliich  to  express  them.  The  larger  his 
Vjaueofan  vocabulary,  the  more  likely  he  is  to  find  in  it 
uiary.  just  the  form  of  expression  he  needs  for  the 

purpose  in  hand.  It  is  from  poverty  of  language  quite 
as  much  as  from  poverty  of  thought  that  school  and 
college  compositions  often  suffer.  Material  which  counts 
for  little  in  the  hands  of  a  tyro,  because  of  his  inability 
to  present  it  in  appropriate  language,  would  tell  for  mucli 
in  the  hands  of  a  writer  who  has  so  many  words  at  his 
command  that  he  can  find  a  fresh  expression  for  every 
fresh  thought  or  fancy. 

To  have  words  at  one's  command,  it  is  not  enough  to 
know  what  they   mean.     Many  that  we  understand   ha 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  75 

books,  and  perhaps  recognize  as  old  friends,  do  not  come 
to  mind  when  we  sit  down  to  write.  Others  that  we 
know  a  httle  better  will  not  come  without  more  effort 
than  we  are  disposed  to  make.  The  easy,  and  therefore 
the  usual,  course  is  to  content  ourselves  with  those  that 
ws  are  in  the  habit  of  using ;  and  most  of  us  use  very  few. 
Even  in  Shakspere  the  whole  number  of  words  is  "  not 
more  than  fifteen  thousand;  in  the  poems  of  Milton  not 
above  eight  thousand.  The  whole  number  of  Egyptian 
hieroglyphic  symbols  does  not  exceed  eight  hundred,  and 
the  entire  Italian  operatic  vocabulary  is  said  to  be  scarcely 
more  extensive."  ^  The  vocabulary  of  business  has  not 
been  estimated,  but  it  is  certainly  small.  So  is  that 
of  ordinary  conversation. 

Poverty  of  language  is  the  source  of  much  slang,  a 
favorite  word  or  phrase  —  as  nice,  nasty,  heastbj,  jolly, 
bully,  ghastly,  elegant,  exciting,  fascinating,  overworked 
gorgeous,  stunning,  splendid,  awfully,  utterly,  ""'''**■ 
vastly,  most  decidedly,  perfectly  lovely,  perfectly  madden- 
ing, how  very  interesting  !  —  being  employed  for  so  many 
purposes  as  to  serve  no  one  purpose  well. 

The  modern  use  of  slang  "is  vulgar,"  writes  T.  A.  Trollope, 
"because  it  arises  from  one  of  the  most  intrinsically  vulgar  of  all 
the  vulgar  tendencies  of  a  vulgar  mind,  —  imitation.  There  are 
slang  phrases  which,  because  they  vividly  or  graphically  express  a 
conception,  or  clothe  it  with  humour,  are  admirable.  But  they  are 
admirable  only  in  the  mouths  of  their  inventors. 

"  Of  course  it  is  an  abuse  of  language  to  say  that  the  beauty  of 
a  pretty  girl  strikes  you  with  awe.  But  he  who  f.rst  said  of  some 
girl  that  she  was  'awfully'  pretty,  w'as  abundantly  justified  by  the 
half  humorous,  half  serious  consideration  of  all  the  effects  such 
loveliness  may  produce."  ^ 

^  Marsh  :  Lecture.s  on  the  English  Language,  lect  viii. 
*  T.  A.  Trollope :   What  I  Hemember,  vol.  i.  chap,  ii.- 


76  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"There  are  certain  words,"  says  "The  Lounger,"  in  "The 
Critic,"  "that  are  good  enough  words  in  themselves,  but  which  used 
in  unusual  connections  become  conspicuous  and  finally  odious.  Some 
time  ago  the  favorite  slang  word  of  literature  was  '  certain.'  Every 
heroine  had  a  '  certain  nameless  charm,'  etc.,  and  every  hero  a  'cer- 
tain air  of  distinction'  about  him,  until  you  longed  for  one  whose 
qualities  were  more  uncertain  in  their  nature  or  degree.  '  Cer- 
tain '  seems  to  have  had  its  day;  and  now  the  favorite  slang  word 
of  literature  is  'distinctly.'  Heroines  are  now  'distinctly  regal' 
in  their  liearing,  and  there  is  about  the  heroes  a  manner  that  is 
'distinctly  fine,'  or  whatever  the  adjective  may  be.  In  a  book 
that  I  read  not  many  days  ago,  the  word  'distinctly'  used  in  this 
way  appeared  three  times  on  one  page,  until  1  was  distinctly  bored 
and  laid  it  down  in  disgust.  '  Precious '  used  to  be  one  of  the 
tortured  vocables,  and  there  was  a  class  of  art-ciitics  that  went 
•so  far  as  to  describe  the  paintings  of  their  favorites  as  'distinctly 
precious.* "  ^ 

"2^othing,"  says  "The  Saturday  Review,"  "  is  gained,  indeed 
much  is  lost,  by  calling  the  rocks  'weird.'  'Weird'  is  'played 
out  long  ago,'  as  Mr.  Swinburne  says;  it  is  smeared  over  the 
coarse  pallet  of  the  descriptive  reporter.  There  are  .some  other 
terms  in  the  same  hackneyed  state;  Ouida  has  got  at  them,  and 
so  have  all  the  lady  novelists  who  find  language  an  insufficient 
vehicle  for  their  thoughts  that  burn.  Among  these  ill-used 
phrases  are  'strange,' '  wild,'  and  'glamour,'  all  which  we  regret 
to  see  that  Mr.  Symonds,  in  a  certain  passage,  piles  together: 
'The  Italy  of  the  Renaissance  fascinated  our  dramatists  with  a 
strange,  wild  glamour.'  Mr.  Symonds  may  remember  the  Ars 
Poelica  of  the  author  of  Alice  in  Wonderland.    The  Master  says :  — 

Now  there  are  certain  epithets 

Which  suit  with  any  word, 
As  well  as  Harvey's  Re.irling  sauce 

With  fish,  or  flesh,  or  bird  ; 
Of  these  '  wild,'  '  lonely,'  'dreary,'  'strange/ 

Are  much  to  be  preferred. 

The  neophyte  answers :  — 

Ah  will  it  do,  nh  will  it  do, 
To  take  tlieiii  in  a  lump, 

'  The  [New  York]  Critic,  March  11,  1893,  p.  147. 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  77 

As,  'the  wild  man  went  his  dreary  way 
To  a  strange  and  lonely  pump '  1 
No,  no,  you  must  not  hastily  to  such  conclusions  jump! 

"For  our  part,  when  a  writer  declares  that  anything  is  weird, 
wild,  or  strange,  we  consider  that  he  does  not  quite  know  what  he 
wants  to  say."  ^ 

Other  expressions  that  have  been  worked  so  hard  of 
late  that  the  life  has  gone  out  of  them  are :  epoch-making, 
clear-cut,  factor,  feature,  galore,  handicap,  trend  ;  atmos- 
phere,  feeling,  technique,  values,  from  painters'  dialect; 
environment,  tendency,  struggle  for  existence,  survival  of 
the  fittest,  from  the  dialect  of  modern  science  ;  objects  of 
interest;  the  near  future;  to  the  fore;  in  totich  with; 
replete  with  interest ;  it  seems  to  me ;  to  detect  the 
recurrence  of;  the  irony  of  fate ;  along  the  line  of  or 
along  these  lines;  a  note  of,  as  in  "There  is  a  note  of 
scholarship  in  the  book;"  consensus,  as  in  "consensus  of 
opinion;"  content,  as  in  "ethical  content." ^  For  mercy s 
sake,  for  heaven's  sake,  thunder,  Jupiter,  confound  it,  the 
deuce  fake  it,  and  expressions  still  more  objectionable, 
prevail  among  persons  whose  fund  of  language  is  small ; 
for,  as  Mr.  Crawford  says,  "Swearing  is  the  refuge 
of  those  whose  vocabulary  is  too  limited  to  furnish 
them  with  a  means  of  expressing  anger  or  disappoint- 
ment."^ 

The  first  thing,  then,  to  be  done  by  a  man  who  would 
learn  to  speak  or  to  write  well  is  to  enrich  his  vocab- 
ulary.    How  can  lie  do  this  ? 

One  way  is  to  gather  words  from  a  dictionary,  as  Chat- 

1  The  Saturday  Review,  May  17,  1879,  p.  624. 

2  For  other  examples,  see  "Our  English;"  English  in  Newspapers 
and  Novels,  pp.  120-125. 

•  F.  Maxion  Crawford :  With  the  Immortals,  chap,  viii 


78  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

ham'  nnd  Browning ^  did.  Another  way  is  to  translate 
How  to  enrich  from  the  ancient  classics,  as  the  great  advo- 

one's  vocabu-  n      c         r^t  t  i  n    -ii 

lary.  catc,  Itutus  uhoatc,  used  to  do.     btill  another 

way  is  to  become  familiar  with  the  classics  of  one's  native 
tongue,  taking  care  always  to  learn  with  the  new  word 
its  exact  force  in  the  place  where  it  occurs,  —  the  plan 
followed  by  Benjamin  Franklin  and  by  Mr.  Stevenson. 

"About  this  time,"  writes  Franklin,  "  I  met  with  an  odd  volume 
of  the  Spectator.  It  was  tho  third.  I  had  never  before  seen  any 
of  tliein.  1  bought  it,  read  it  over  and  over,  and  wa.s  much 
delighted  with  it.  1  thought  the  writing  excellent,  and  wished,  if 
possible,  to  imitate  it.  With  this  view  I  took  some  of  the  papers, 
and  making  short  hints  of  the  sentiment  in  each  sentence,  laid 
them  by  a  few  days,  and  then,  without  looking  at  the  book,  try'd 
to  compleat  the  papers  again,  by  expressing  each  hinted  sentiment 
at  length,  and  as  fully  as  it  had  been  expressed  before,  in  any 
suitable  words  that  should  come  to  hand.  Then  I  compared  my 
Spectator  with  the  original,  discovered  some  of  my  faults,  and  cor- 
rected them.  But  I  found  I  wanted  a  stock  of  words,  or  a  readi- 
ness in  recollecting  and  using  them,  which  I  thought  I  should  have 
acquired  before  that  time  if  I  had  gone  on  making  verses;  since 
the  continual  occasion  for  words  of  the  same  import,  but  of  differ- 
ent length,  to  suit  the  measure,  or  of  different  sound  for  the 
rhyme,  would  have  laid  me  under  a  constant  necessity  of  seaich- 
ing  for  variety,  and  also  have  tended  to  fix  that  variety  in  my 
mind,  and  )nake  me  master  of  it.  Therefore  I  took  some  of  the 
tales  and  turned  them  into  verse;  and,  after  a  time,  when  I  had 
pretty  well  forgotten  the  prose,  turned  them  back  again.  I  also 
sometimes  jumbled  my  collections  of  hints  into  confusion,  and 
after  some  weeks  endeavored  to  reduce  them  into  the  best  order, 

'  Chatham  "  told  a  friend  that  he  had  read  over  Ilailey's  English  dic- 
tionary twice  fiom  beginning  to  end."  Lecky  :  History  of  England  ic 
the  Eighteenth  Century,  vol.  ii.  chap.  viii. 

2  "  When  the  die  was  cast,  and  yonng  Browning  [at  eighteen]  was 
definitely  to  adopt  literature  as  liis  profession,  he  qualified  himself  for  it 
hy  reading  and  digRsting  the  whole  of  Johnson's  Dictionary."  Mrs. 
Sutherland  Orr  ;  Life  of  Robert  Browning,  vol.  i.  chap.  iv. 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  79 

before  T  began  to  form  the  full  sentences  and  compleat  the  paper. 
This  vva>s  to  teach  me  method  in  the  arrangement  of  thoughts. 
By  comparing  my  woik  afterwards  with  the  criginal,  I  discovered 
many  faults  and  amended  them  ;  but  I  sometimes  had  the  pleasure 
of  fancying  that,  in  certain  particulars  of  small  import,  I  had  been 
lucky  enough  to  improve  the  method  or  the  language,  and  this 
encouraged  me  to  think  I  might  possibly  in  time  come  to  be  a 
toleralile  English  writer,  of  which  I  was  extreamly  ambitious."  ^ 

"  All  thiough  my  boyhood  and  youth,"  writes  Mr.  Stevenson,  "  [ 
was  known  and  pointed  out  for  the  pattern  of  an  idler;  and  yet  I 
was  always  busy  on  my  own  private  end,  which  was  to  learn  to  write. 
I  kept  always  two  books  in  my  pocket,  one  to  read,  one  to  write  in. 
As  I  walked,  my  mind  was  busy  fitting  what  I  saw  with  appropri- 
ate words ;  when  J  sat  by  the  roadside  I  would  either  read,  or  a 
pencil  and  a  penny  version-book  would  be  in  my  hand,  to  note  down 
the  features  of  the  scene  or  commemorate  some  halting  stanzas. 
Thus  I  lived  with  words.  And  what  I  thus  wrote  was  for  no  ulte- 
rior use;  it  was  written  consciously  for  practice.  It  was  not  so 
much  that  1  wished  to  be  an  author  (though  I  wished  that  too)  as 
that  I  had  vov^'ed  that  I  would  learn  to  write.  That  was  a  profi- 
ciency that  tempted  me;  and  I  practised  to  acquire  it,  as  men  learn 
to  whittle,  in  a  wager  with  myself.  Desci'iption  was  the  principal 
field  of  my  exercise;  for  to  any  one  with  senses  there  is  always 
something  worth  describing,  and  town  and  country  aie  but  one 
continuous  subject.  But  I  worked  in  other  ways  also;  often 
accompanied  my  walks  with  dramatic  dialogues,  in  which  I  played 
many  parts  ;  and  often  exercised  myself  in  writing  down  conver- 
sations from  memory. 

"This  was  all  excellent,  no  doubt;  so  were4he  diaries  T  some- 
times tried  to  keep,  but  always  and  very  speedily  discarded,  find- 
ing them  a  school  of  posturing  and  melancholy  self-decejjtion. 
And  yet  this  was  not  the  most  efficient  part  of  my  training.  Good 
though  it  was,  it  only  taught  me  (so  far  as  I  have  learned  them  at 
all)  the  lower  and  less  intellectual  elements  of  the  art,  the  choice 
of  the  essential  note  and  the  right  word,  —  things  that  to  a  happier 
constitution  had  perhaps  come  by  nature.  And  regarded  as  train- 
ing, it  had  one  grave  defect ;  for  it  set  me  no  standard  of  achieve- 

^  Autobiography  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  edited  by  John  Cigelow, 
yol.  i.  part  i. 


80  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

nieiit.  So  that  there  was  perhaps  more  profit,  as  there  was  certainly 
more  effort,  in  my  secret  labors  at  home.  Wlienever  I  read  a  book 
or  a  passage  that  particularly  pleased  me,  in  which  a  thing  was 
said  or  an  effect  rendered  with  propriety,  in  which  there  was  either 
some  conspicuous  force  or  some  happy  distinction  in  the  style,  I 
must  sit  down  at  once  and  set  myself  to  ape  tliat  quality.  I  was 
unsuccessful,  and  I  knew  it;  and  tried  again,  and  was  again  un- 
successful and  always  unsuccessful;  but,  at  least,  in  these  vain 
bouts  1  got  some  practice  in  rhythm,  in  liarraony,  in  construction, 
and  the  co-ordination  of  parts. 
. 

"  That,  like  it  or  not,  is  the  way  to  learn  to  write ;   whether  I 
have  profited  or  not,  that  is  the  way.     It  was  so  Keats  learned,  and 
there  was  never  a  finer  temperament  for  literature  than  Keats's; 
it  was  so,  if  we  could  trace  it  out,  that  all  men  have  learned ;  and 
that  is  why  a  revival  of  letters  is  always  accompanied  or  heralded 
by  a  cast  back  to  earlier  and  fresher  models.    Perhaps  I  hear  some 
one  cry  out:    But  this  is  not  the  way  to  be  original!     It  is  notr 
nor  is  there  any  way  but  to  be  born  so.     Nor  yet,  if  you  are  born 
original,  is  there  anything  in  this  training  that  shall  clip  the  wings 
of  your  originality.     There  can  be  none  more  original  than  Mon- 
taigne, neither  could  any  be  more  unlike  Cicero ;  yet  no  craftsman 
can  fail  to  see  how  much  the  one  must  have  tried  in  his  time  to 
imitate  the  other.      Burns  is  the  very  type  of  a  prime  force  in 
letters;  he  was  of  all  men  the  most  imitative.     Shakespeare  him- 
self, the  imperial,  proceeds  directly  from  a  school.     It  is  only  from 
a  school  that  we  can  expect  to  have  good  writers  ;    it  is  almost 
invariably  from  a  school  that  great  writers,  these  lawless  excep- 
tions, issue.     Nor  is  there  anything  here  that  shoidd  astonish  the 
considerate.      Before  he  can  tell  what  cadences  he  truly  prefers, 
the  student  should  have  tried  all  that  are  possible  ;  before  he  -can 
choose  and  preserve  a  fitting  key  of  words,  he  should  long  have 
practised  the   literary  scales;    and   it  is  only  after  years  of  such 
gymnastic  that  he  can  sit  down  at  last,  legions  of  words  swarming 
to  his  call,  dozens  of  turns  of  phrase  sinmltaneously  bidding  for 
his  choice,  and  he  himself    knowing  what  he  wants  to  do  and 
(within  the  narrow  limit  of  a  man's  ability)  able  to  do  it. 

"And    it  is  the  great  point  of  these  imitations  that  there  still 
shines  beyond  the  student's  reach  his  inimitable  model.     Let  him 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  81 

try  as  he  please,  he  is  still  sure  of  failure ;  and  it  is  a  very  old  aud 
a  very  true  saying  that  failure  is  the  only  high-road  to  success."  ^ 

For  a  chosen  few,  conscious  effort,  such  as  Franklin 
and  Mr.  Stevenson  made,  is  of  priceless  value ;  but  for  most 
young  writers,  the  best  practicable  way  to  increase  their 
v^ocabulary  is  by  unconscious  assimilation,  —  by  absorb- 
ing words  from  books  or  from  conversation,  as  children 
do,  without  thinking  about  processes  or  results.  The 
danger  of  this  method  lies  in  the  temptation  to  pick  up 
words  as  words,  without  mastering  their  meaning.  There 
is  sometimes  less  promise  in  juvenile  writers  who  take 
the  first  word  that  offers  than  in  those  who  halt  be- 
tween two  words.  The  facility  of  the  former  may  be 
fatal  to  the  acquirement  of  excellence:  the  slowness  of 
the  latter  fosters  a  habit  of  seeking  the  right  expression, 
which  often  develops  into  a  faculty  for  finding  it. 

After  making  sure  that  a  given  word  is  English,  a 
writer  may  ask  himself  whether  it  is  (1)  the  word  that 
will  convey  his  exact  meaning  to  his  readers,  how  to  deter- 
(2)  the  word  that  will  impress  his  meaning  on  "ho.ceof 
his  readers,  (3)  the  word  that  will  be  agreeable  "''"'"^^" 
to  his  readers.  The  relative  attention  to  be  given  to 
each  of  these  points  varies  with  the  nature  of  the  subject- 
matter  and  the  quality  of  the  readers  addressed. 


SECTION    I. 

CLEARNESS. 

A  writer  should  choose  that  word  or  phrase  which  will 
jonvey  his  meaning  with  clearness.    It  is  not  enough  to 

*  R.  L.  Stevenson :   Memories  and  Portraits ;   A  College  Magazine^ 
dect  i. 

4* 


82  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

use  language  that  may  be  understood ;  he  should  use  lan- 
ffuage  that  must  be  understood.^  He  should  remember 
,       ,        f  that,  as  far  as  attention  is  called  to  the  medium 

Importance  oi  ' 

clearness.  ^f  communicatioH,  SO  far  is  it  withdrawn  from 
the  ideas  communicated,  and  this  even  when  the  medium 
is  free  from  flaws.  How  mucli  more  serious  the  evil 
when  the  medium  obscures  or  distorts  an  object ! 

"  The  young,"  writes  Carlyle,  "  must  learn  to  speak  by  imitation 
of  the  Older  who  already  do  it  or  have  done  it :  the  ultimate  rule 
is,  Learn  so  far  as  possible  to  be  intelligible  and  transparent,  no 
notice  taken  of  your  'style,'  but  solely  of  what  you  express  by  it; 
this  is  your  clear  rule,  and  if  you  have  anything  that  is  not  quite 
trivial  to  express  to  your  contemporaries,  you  will  find  such  rule  a 
great  deal  more  diiBcult  to  follow  than  many  people  think  I  "  ^ 

"  Any  writer  who  has  read  even  a  little,"  says  Anthony  Trollope, 
"  will  know  what  is  meant  by  the  word  '  intelligible.'  It  is  not  suffi- 
cient that  there  be  a  meaning  that  may  be  hammered  out  of  the 
sentence,  but  that^  the  language  should  be  so  pellucid  that  the 
meaning  should  be  rendered  without  an  effort  of  the  reader ;  and 
not  only  some  proposition  of  meaning,  but  the  very  sense,  no  more 
and  no  less,  which  the  writer  has  intended  to  put  into  his  words. 
...  A  young  writer,  who  will  acknowledge  the  truth  of  what  I  am 
saying,  will  often  feel  himself  tempted  by  the  difficulties  of  language 
to  tell  himself  that  some  one  little  doubtful  passage,  some  single  col- 
location of  words,  which  is  not  quite  what  it  ought  to  be,  will  not 
matter.  I  know  well  what  a  stumbling-block  such  a  passage  may 
be.  But  he  should  leave  none  such  behind  him  as  he  goes  on. 
The  habit  of  writing  clearly  soon  comes  to  the  writer  who  is  a 
severe  critic  to  himself."  * 

If  to  every  one  who  understands  English  every  word 
always  meant  one  thing  and  one  thing  only,  and  if  com- 

^  Non  ut  iiitellet^ere  possit,  sed  ne  omnino  possit  non  intelJegere  caran- 
;dum.     Quintilian  :  Iiist.  Orator,  viii.  ii.  xxiv. 

2  Carkle:  Reminiscences;  Edward  L-viug.     Edited  by  C.  E.  Norton. 

8  Is  tliere  redundancy  here  ? 

*  Anthony  Trollope :  An  Autobiography,  chap.  xii. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  83 

binations  of  words  exactly  corresponded  to  relations  of 
things,  clearness  (otherwise  called  perspicuity)  v/ould  be 
secured  by  grammatical  correctness ;  but  in  the  Difficulty 

1  •  .  ,  .  .,        of  writing 

language  as  it  exists  clearness  is  not  so  easily  cieariy. 
won.     Even  under  the  most  favorable  conditions,  it  ia 
exceedingly  difficult  to  attain. 

Such,  for  example,  were  the  conditions  under  which 
Macaulay  wrote  his  "  History."  Wliat  he  saw  at  all  he 
saw  distinctly ;  what  he  believed  he  believed  with  his 
whole  strength  ;  he  wrote  on  subjects  with  which  he  had 
long  been  familiar ;  and  he  made  lucidity  his  primary  object 
in  composition.  For  him,  in  short,  there  was  no  difficulty 
in  securing  clearness,  except  that  which  is  inherent  in 
the  nature  of  language.  This  difficulty  he  overcame 
with  unusual  success,  as  all  his  critics  ^  admit,  but  with 
how  much  labor  his  biographer  will  tell  us :  — 

"  The  main  secx'et  of  Macaulay's  success  lay  in  this,  that  to 
extraordinary  fluency  and  facility  he  united  patient,  minute,  and 
persistent  diligence.     He  well  knew,  as  Chaucer  knew  before  him, 

that  — 

'  There  is  na  workeman 
That  can  bothe  worken  wel  and  hastilie. 
This  must  be  done  at  leisure  parfaitlie.* 

K  his  method  of  composition  ever  comes  into  fashion,  books  prob- 
ably will  be  better,  and  undoubtedly  will  be  shorter.  As  soon  as 
he  had  got  into  his  head  all  the  information  relating  to  any  par- 
ticular episode  in  his  '  History '  (such,  for  instance,  as  Argyll's  ex- 
pedition to  Scotland,  or  the  attainder  of  Sir  John  Fenwick,  or  the 
calling  in  of  the  clipped  coinage),  he  would  sit  down  and  write  off 
the  whole  story  at  a  headlong  pace,  sketching  in  the  outlines  under 
the  genial  and  audacious  impulse  of  a  first  conception,  and  securing 
in  black  and  white  each  idea  and  epithet  and  turn  of  phrase,  as  it 
flowed  straight  from  his  busy  brain  to  his  rapid  fingers.  .  .  . 

*  t)ne  of  the  severest  of  them,  Mr.  John  Morley,  says  that  IMacaulay 
"  never  wrote  an  obscure  sentence  in  his  life."  See  "  The  Fortnightly  Re- 
view," April,  1876,  p.  505. 


84  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"  As  soon  as  Macaulay  had  finished  his  rough  draft,  he  began  to 
fill  it  in  at  the  rate  of  six  sides  of  foolscap  every  morning,  written 
in  so  large  a  hand  and  with  such  a  multitude  of  erasures,  that  the 
whole  six  pages  were,  on  an  average,  compressed  into  two  pages  of 
print.  This  portion  he  called  his  '  task,'  and  he  was  never  quite 
easy  unless  he  completed  it  daily.  More  he  seldom  sought  to 
accomplish ;  for  he  had  learned  by  long  experience  that  this  was 
as  nmch  as  he  could  do  at  his  best;  and  except  when  at  his  best, 
he  never  would  work  at  all.  .  .  . 

"  Macaulay  never  allowed  a  sentence  to  pass  muster  until  it  was 
as  good  as  he  could  make  it.  He  thought  little  of  recasting  a  chap- 
ter in  order  to  obtain  a  more  lucid  arrangement,  and  nothing  what- 
ever of  reconstructing  a  paragraph  for  the  sake  of  one  happy  stroke 
or  apt  illustration."  ^ 

One  of  the  means  by  which  Macaulay  secured  the 
clearness  that  distinguishes  all  his  writings  is  noted  by  a 
later  historian.  "I  learned  from  Macaulay,"  says  Mr. 
Freeman,  "  never  to  be  afraid  of  using  the  same  word  or 
name  over  and  over  again,  if  by  that  means  anything 
could  be  added  to  clearness  or  force.  Macaulay  never 
goes  on,  like  some  writers,  talking  about  '  the  former '  and 
*  the  latter,'  '  he,  she,  it,  they,'  through  clause  after  clause, 
while  his  reader  has  to  look  back  to  see  which  of  several 
persons  it  is  that  is  so  darkly  referred  to."  ^ 

From  the  point  of  view  of  clearness,  it  is  always  better 
to  repeat  a  noun  than  to  substitute  for  it  a  pronoun  which 
Obscure  or       fails  to  suffgcst  that  noun  unmistakably  and 

equivocal  .        , 

pronouns.  at  oucc.  No  fault  is,  however,  more  common 
than  the  use  of  an  obscure  or  equivocal  pronoun.  For 
example :  — 

"I  must  go  and  help  Alice  with  the  heifer;  she  is  not  very  quiet 
yet,  and  I  see  her  going  out  with  her  pail."  » 

1  Trevelyan  :  Life  and  Letters  of  Macaulay,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xi. 

2  The  International  Review,  September,  1876,  p.  690. 

8  Captain  Marryat :  The  Children  of  the  New  Forest,  chap.  xvii. 


CHOICE   OF   WOKDS.  85 

"They  were  persons  of  such  moderate  intellects,  even  before 
they  were  impaired  by  their  passion,  that  their  irregularities  could 
not  furnish  sufficient  variety  of  foUy."  ^ 

"  Steele's  father,  who  is  said  to  have  been  a  lawyer,  died  before 
he  had  reached  his  sixth  year."  ^ 

"  At  length,  worn  out  by  the  annoyance,  he  deliberately  resolved 
not  to  enter  on  another  year  of  existence,  —  paid  all  his  debts, 
wrapped  up  in  separate  papers  the  amount  of  the  weekly  demands, 
waited,  pistol  in  hand,  the  night  of  the  31st  December,  and  as  the 
clock  struck  twelve  fired  it  into  his  mouth."  ^ 

"  With  the  appearance  of  these  two  journals  the  press  assumed 
a  much  freer  and  bolder  tone  than  ever  before.  It  criticised  the 
actions  of  the  Government  and  then  began  to  publish  Parliamen- 
tary reports  and  proceedings.  It  soon  followed  that  prominent 
politicians  and  statesmen  as  well  began  to  write  for  the  papers."  * 

"  There  was  ^  also  a  number  of  cousins,  who  were  about  the 
same  age,  and  were  always  laughing,  though  it  was  never  quite 
clear  what  it  was  about."  ^ 

"  The  present  business  of  these  pages  is  with  the  dragon  who 
had  his  retreat  in  Mr.  Pecksniff's  neighbourhood ;  and  that  cour- 
teous animal  being  already  on  the  carpet,  there  is  nothing  in  the 
way  of  its  immediate  transaction."  '' 

"  It  was  the  loss  of  his  son,  on  whom  he  had  looked  with  an 
affection  which  belonged  to  his  character,  with  an  exaggerated 
admiration  which  was  a  most  pardonable  exercise  of  his  fancy, 
■which  struck  the  fatal  blow  to  his  spirit  as  well  as  to  his  body." « 

"  Rasselas  was  the  fourth  son  of  the  mighty  emperor  in  whose 
dominions  the  Fatlier  of  Waters  begins  his  course ;  tvhose  bounty 
pours  down  the  streams  of  plenty,  and  scatters  over  half  the  world 
the  harvests  of  Egypt."  ^ 

1  The  Spectator,  No.  30. 

2  Encyclopsedia  Britaimica  (ninth  edition) ;  Richard  Steele. 

3  Henry  Maudsley :  Hallucinations  of  the  Senses.  The  Fortnightly 
Review,  Sept.  1,  1878. 

*  Student's  theme.  ^  See  page  57. 

^  Disraeli:  Endymion,  chap.  lii. 

^  Dickens :  Martin  Chuzzlewit,  chnp.  iii. 

8  F.  D.  Maurice :  The  F'riendship  of  Books  and  Other  Lectures,  lect.  xL  V 

^  Samuel  Johnson :  Rasselas,  chap.  i. 


86  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"  To  have  the  house  of  God  unfinished,  with  a  perfectly  finished 
statue  of  himself  beside  it,  would  be,  I  think,  most  distasteful 
to  him."  1 

A  similar  fault  is  the  use  of  obscure  demonstrative 
adjectives.     For  example:  — 

'•  It  is  seriously  claimed  ^  that  the  prohibitory  tariff  tax  upon 
carpet  wools  will  lead  to  the  breeding  of  that  class  of  sheep  in  this 
country."  ^ 

The  judicious  use  of  connective  particles  —  "the  joints 
or  hinges  on  vs^hich  sentences  turn"^ — promotes  clearness. 
Use  and  mis-    "A  closc  rcasoucr  and  a  good  writer  in  general* 

use  of  coil-  ,       .  -,        -,   •  ,  •  ,  p 

nectives.  may  DC  Kuowu  by  his  pertment  use  oi  connec- 

tives." ^     Examples  of  the  skilful  use  of  connective  par- 
ticles are :  — 

"The  capital  leading  questions  on  which  you  must  this  day 
decide  are  these  two  :  First,  whether  you  ought  to  concede  ;  and 
secondly,  what  your  concession  ought  to  be.  Oti  the  first  of  these 
questions  we  have  gained  (as  I  have  just  taken  the  liberty  of  ob- 
serving to  you)  some  ground.  But  I  am  sensible  that  a  good  deal 
more  is  still  to  be  done.  Indeed,  sir,  to  enable  us  to  determine  both 
on  the  one  and  the  other  of  these  great  questions  with  a  firm  and 
precise  judgment,  I  think  it  maybe  necessary  to  consider  distinctly 
the  true  nature  and  the  peculiar  circumstances  of  the  object  which 
we  have  before  us.  Because  after  all  our  struggle,  whether  we  will 
or  not,  we  must  govern  America  according  to  that  nature  and  to 
those  circumstances,  and  not  according  to  our  own  imaginations ; 
nor  according  to  abstract  ideas  of  right ;  by  no  means  according  to 
mere  general  theories  of  government,  the  resort  to  which  appears 
to  me,  in  our  present  situation,  no  better  than  arrant  trifling.  I 
shall  therefore  endeavour,  with  your  leave,  to  lay  before  you  some  of 
the  most  material  of  these  circumstances."  ® 

1  American  newspaper.  ^  See  page  12. 

3  Blair :  Lectures  ou  Rhetoric,  lect.  sii. 

*  Is  iyi  general,  ambiguous  '' 

«»  Coleridge :  Table  Talk. 

8  Burke :  Speech  ou  Conciliation  with  Americfu 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  87 

"  Such  was  the  spirit  of  the  extreme  Puritans,  both  Presbyterian 
and  Independent.  Oliver,  indeed,  was  little  disposed  to  be  either  a 
persecutor  or  a  meddler.  But  Oliver,  the  head  of  a  party,  and  con- 
sequeiillij,  to  a  great  extent,  the  slave  of  a  party,  could  not  govern 
altogether  according  to  his  own  inclinations.  Even  under  his 
administration  many  magistrates,  within  their  own  jurisdiction, 
made  themselves  as  odious  as  Sir  Hudibras,  interfered  with  all  the 
pleasures  of  the  neighbourhood,  dispersed  festive  meetings,  and  put 
fiddlers  in  the  stocks.  Still  more  formidable  was  the  zeal  of  the 
soldiers.  .  .  . 

"  AVith  the  fear  and  hatred  inspired  by  such  a  tyranny  contempt 
was  largely  mingled."  i 

Useful  as  is  a  connective  particle  that  expresses  a  real 
connection  of  thought,  one  that  serves  no  purpose  is 
worse  than  useless,  and  one  used  for  an  unsuitable  pur- 
pose leads  astray. 

But  and  a7id  are  frequent  offenders  in  both  ways.  They 
are  properly  used  to  connect  words  or  clauses  closely  re- 
lated in  meaning  and  similar  in  construction,  —  hut,  hy 
way  of  subtraction  or  opposition,  as  in  "poor  hut  hon- 
est ; "  a7id,  by  way  of  addition,  as  in  "  poor  a7icl  honest." 
A  composition  should  never  begin  with  hut  or  with  and ; 
for,  if  nothing  precedes  the  conjunction,  there  is  nothing 
for  it  to  connect  with  what  follows.  A  paragraph  may 
so  begin  when  there  is  real  opposition  or  real  connection 
between  two  paragraphs  as  wholes;  but  usually  a  new 
paragraph  indicates  a  break  in  the  sense  too  important 
to  be  bridged  by  a  conjunction. 

In  the  following  extract,  hut  is  misused  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  paragraph  :  — 

"  Simple  as  the  victual  was,  they  were  somewhat  strengthened 
by  it  and  by  the  plentiful  water,  and  as  night  was  now  upon  them, 

1  Macaulay :  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 


88  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

it  was  of  no  avail  for  them  to  go  further:  so  they  slept  beneath 
the  boughs  of  the  thorn-bushes."     (End  of  chapter  xvii.) 

"  But  on  the  morrow  they  arose  betimes,  and  broke  their  fast  on 
that  woodland  victual,  and  then  went  speedily  down  the  mountain- 
side ;  and  Ilallblithe  saw  by  the  clear  morning  liglit  that  it  was 
indeed  the  Uttermost  House  which  he  had  seen  across  the  green 
waste."  1     (Beginning  of  chapter  xviii.) 

Objection  is  sometimes  taken  to  the  employment  of  hut 
or  and  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence ;  but  for  this  there 
is  much  good  usage.  In  some  cases,  however,  hut  or 
and  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  not  only  serves  no 
purpose,  but  is  misleading,  and  should  therefore  be  omit- 
ted.    For  example :  — 

"  He  had  wanted  a  presentable,  dignified  and  reserved  wife,  a 
wife  who  was  not  silly,  who  did  not  simper  or  smirk,  and  he  had 
got  her.  But  what  he  had  not  recognized  was  that  such  character- 
istics do  not  make  up  a  woman's  soul,  but  are  only  one  expression 
of  it  under  certain  circumstances,  and  that  the  soul  that  expressed  ^ 
itself  in  such  a  way  :ffiaa  ^  capable  of  expressing  itself  differently 
under  other  circumstances."  ^ 

In  this  passage,  hut  at  the  beginning  of  the  second  sentence  is 
objectionable  not  only  because  it  offends  against  clearness,  but 
also  because,  in  connection  with  the  following  hut,  it  offends 
against  ease. 

But  is  sometimes  so  used  as  to  perplex  the  reader.  For 
example  :  — 

"Her  white  hands  lay  in  his  great  brown  paws,  like  little 
patches  of  snow  in  some  sheltered  nook  of  the  hills.  But  they 
were  warm  with  life  and  love,  and  she  was  very  fair."* 

In  this  passage,  the  full  meaning  of  the  second  sentence  is,  — 
"But  they  were  not  like  snow,  for  they  were  warm,"  etc.  But 
connects  the  preceding  sentence  with  an  idea  which  the  reader  is 
>  expected  to  supply  for  himself. 

1  William  Morris :  The  Story  of  the  Glittering  Plain. 

2  See  page  65.  ^  E.  F.  Benson :  The  Rubicon,  book  i.  chap.  ill. 
*  Ibid.,  book  ii.  chap.  ii. 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  89 

In  the  following  example,  but  is  misused  in  a  similar  way :  — 

"Miss  Raeburn  pushed  back  her  chair  with  a  sharp  noise.  Bui 
her  brother  was  still  peeling  his  pear,  and  no  one  else  moved."  ^ 

Even  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  but  is  sometimes  misused  in 
this  way ;  — 

"  It  is  a  pungent  production,  containing  many  quotable  pas- 
sages, but  we  give  it  entire  in  another  column."  2 

And  is  often  used  —  and  tut  sometimes  —  as  a  means 
of  bringing  things  together  somehow,  with  no  implication 
of  close  connection  or  of  co-ordination.  It  is  so  used  in 
the  Bible,  in  children's  stories,  and  in  books  that  aim  at 
a  conversational  style. 

While  is  another  conjunction  that  is  misused  in  various 
ways :  — 

"  The  array  moved  on  accordingly ;  the  sound  of  trumpets  and 
drums  again  rose  amid  the  acclamations,  which  had  been  silent 
while  the  King  stopped ;  while  the  effect  of  the  whole  procession 
resuming  its  motion,  was  so  splendidly  dazzling,  that  even  Alice's 
anxiety  about  her  father's  health  was  for  a  moment  suspended, 
while  her  eyes  followed  the  long  line  of  varied  brilliancy  that  pro- 
ceeded over  the  heath."* 

In  this  sentence,  the  second  while  is  an  awkward  substitute  for 
"and."  The  first  "  while  "  is  correct,  for  the  meaning  is  that  the 
trumpets  and  drums  were  silent  during  the  time  that  the  King 
stopped.  The  third  "  while  "  is  also  correct,  for  the  meaning  is 
that  Alice's  anxiety  was  suspended  dui'ing  the  time  that  her  eye 
followed  the  long  line. 

"  While  the  Infanta  Eulalie  is  in  delicate  health,  she  would  be 
able  to  endure  a  trip  to  Chicago."  2 

In  this  sentence,  tchile  means  "though." 

"  He  has  fought  for  it  [his  Budget]  with  a  good  deal  of  the  old 
Whig  tenacity  of  purpose.  He  has  not  been  squeezable  at  all, 
while  he  has  accepted  one  or  two  important  amendments j  and  has 
fought  very  dangerous  opponents  with  a  certain  bonhomie  and 
coolness."* 

1  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward  :  Marcella,  book  i.  chap.  v. 

■^  American  newspaper.  ^  Scott:  Woodstock,  vol.  ii  chap.  xx. 

*  The  [London]  Spectator,  June  2.3,  18'J4,  p.  844. 


90  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

In  this  sentence,  while  is  apparently  used  for  "  but." 

"  He  will  have,  for  instance,  the  right  half  of  his  tunic  and  his 

left  leg  blue,  while  the  right  leg  and  tlie  left  half  of  his  tunic  are 

purple."  ^ 

In   this   sentence,  ichile  is   misleading.      Clearness  wou/d  be 

promoted  by  the  omission  of  while  and  are. 

The  use  of  ho'W  for  that  sometimes  causes  obscurity. 
For  example :  — 

"  Brother  and  sister,  sitting  thus  side  by  side,  have,  of  course, 
their  anticipations  how  one  of  them  must  sit  at  last  in  the  faint 
sun  alone."  ^ 

..."  everybody  knew  hoio  Barnabas  Thayer  no  longer  lived  at 
home,  and  did  not  sit  in  his  father's  pew  in  church,  but  in  the 
gallery,  and  how  Richard  Alger  had  stopped  going  to  see  Sylvia 
Crane."  s 

Obscurity  is  sometimes  caused  by  an  attempt  to  assert 
Negative  or       ^  thing  by  denying  the  opposite.     For  exam- 

positive  ?  Yq  ■ 

"  He  was  selected  for  the  vacant  bishopric,  and  on  the  next 
vacancy  which  might  occur  in  any  diocese  w'ould  take  his  place  in 
the  Hou.se  of  Lords,  prepared  to  give  not  a  ailenl  vote  in  all  matters 
concerning  the  weal  of  the  church  establishment."* 

"  Gladstone  is  nothincj  less  than  impartial  on  any  subject,  but  he 
makes  you  forget  this."  ^ 

Clearness  is  a  relative  term.  The  same  treatment  can- 
not be  given  to  every  subject ;  the  same  subject  cannot 
Clearness  a       always  bc  treated   in  the  same  way.     Words 

relative  qual-  n        i  i  •  i         •       i 

ity.  that  are    perfectly   clear    m    a   metaphysical 

treatise  may  be  obscure  in  a  didactic  poem ;  those  that 
are  admirably  adapted  to  a  political  pamphlet  may  be 

^  Student's  theme. 

*  Pater :  Appreciations  ;  Charles  Lamb. 
3  American  novel. 

'  Antfiony  Trollope:  Barchester  Towers,  vol.  i.  chap,  ni 

*  The  [London]  Spectator,  April  29,  1893,  p.  560. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  91 

ambiguous  in  a  sermon ;  a  discourse  written  for  an  asso- 
ciation of  men  of  science  will  not  answer  for  a  lyceum 
lecture;  it  is  one  thing  to  speak  to  the  ear,  another  to 
write  for  the  eye.  "Eloquence  is  the  power  to  trans- 
late a  truth  into  language  perfectly  intelligible  to  the  'person 
to  whom  you  speak.  He  who  would  convince  the  worthy 
Mr.  Dunderhead  of  any  truth  which  Dunderhead  does 
not  see,  must  be  a  master  of  his  art.  Declamation  is 
common;  but  such  possession  of  thought  as  is  here  re- 
quired, such  practical  chemistry  as  the  conversion  of  a 
truth  written  in  God's  language  into  a  truth  in  Dun- 
derhead's language,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  co- 
gent weapons  that  is  ^  forged  in  the  shop  of  the  Divine 
Artificer."  "- 

In  "  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Eeverend  Amos  Barton," 
George  Eliot  introduces  us  to  two  clergymen,  of  whom 
one  possesses  this  "  cogent  weapon  "  and  the  other  does 
not:  — 

"  Mr.  Cleves  has  the  wonderful  art  of  preaching  sermons  which 
the  wheelwright  and  the  blacksmith  can  understand  ;  not  because 
he  talks  condescending  twaddle,  but  because  he  can  call  a  spade 
a  spade,  and  knows  how  to  disencumber  ideas  of  their  wordy 
frippery."  ^ 

"  And  now,  eke  out  an  audience  of  which  this  front  benchf ul 
was  a  sample,  with  a  certain  number  of  refractory  children,  over 
whom  Mr.  Spratt,  the  master  of  the  workhouse,  exercised  an  irate 
surveillance,  and  I  think  that  you  will  admit  that  the  university- 
taught  clergyman,  whose  office  it  is  to  bring  home  the  gospel  to  a 
handful  of  such  souls,  has  a  sufficiently  hard  task.  For,  to  have 
any  chance  of  success,  short  of  miraculous  intervention,  he  must 
bring  his  geographical,  chronological,  exegetical  mind  pretty  nearly 

1  See  page  55. 

2  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson :  Letters  and  Social  Aim°;  Eloq"ence. 

3  George  Eliot:  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Ueverend  Amos  Barton, 
chap.  v. 


92  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

to  the  pauper  point  of  view,  or  of  no  view  ;  lie  must  have  some  ap- 
proximate conception  of  the  mode  in  which  the  doctrines  that  have 
so  much  vitality  in  the  plenum  of  his  own  brain  will  comport  them- 
selves in  vacuo,  —  that  is  to  say,  in  a  brain  that  is  neithei  geograph- 
ical, chronological,  nor  exegetical.  It  is  a  flexible  imagination  that 
can  take  such  a  leap  as  that,  and  an  adroit  tongue  that  can  adapt 
its  speech  to  so  unfamiliar  a  position.  The  Rev.  Amos  Barton  had 
neither  that  flexible  imagination  nor  that  adroit  tongue.  He  talked 
of  Israel  and  its  sins,  of  chosen  vessels,  of  the  Paschal  lamb,  of 
blood  as  a  medium  of  reconciliation ;  and  he  strove  in  this  way  to 
convey  religious  truth  within  reach  of  the  Fodge  and  the  Fitchett 
mind.  This  very  morning,  the  first  lesson  was  the  twelfth  chapter 
of  Exodus,  and  Mr.  Barton's  exposition  turned  on  unleavened 
bread.  Nothing  in  the  world  more  suited  to  the  simple  under- 
standing than  instruction  through  familiar  types  and  symbols! 
But  there  is  always  this  danger  attending  it,  that  the  interest  or 
comprehension  of  your  hearers  may  stop  short  precisely  at  the 
point  where  your  spiritual  interpretation  begins.  And  Mr.  Barton 
this  morning  succeeded  in  carrying  the  pauper  imagination  to  the 
dough-tub,  but  unfortunately  was  not  able  to  carry  it  upwards 
from  that  well-known  object  to  the  unknown  truths  which  it  was 
intended  to  shadow  forth."  i 

In  the  fact  that  clearness  is  a  relative  quality  it  dif- 
fers from  precision.  A  writer  who  aims  at  scientific 
Clearness  dis-  accuracY,  finding  ordinary  words  in  their  ordi- 

tinguished  . 

from  precision,  nary  meanings  vague  or  equivocal,  is  obliged 
either  to  give  to  familiar  words  an  unfamiliar  meaning 
or  to  use  technical  terms.  Hence,  in  the  several  sciences 
systems  of  nomenclature  have  arisen  that  must  be  mas- 
tered before  the  sciences  of  which  they  are  the  language 
can  be  thoroughly  understood.  Each  of  these  systems 
forms,  as  did  Latin  during  the  Middle  Ages,  a  medium 
of  communication  among  scholars.  It  constitutes,  like 
the  terms  and  formulas  of  algebra,  a  dialect,  —  a  dialect 

1  George  Eliot:  The  Sad  Fortunes  of  the  Reverend  Amos  Barton, 
chaj).  ii. 


CHOICE  OF   WORDS.  93 

which  may,  indeed,  contribute  to  the  general  language, 
but  which  is  full  of  terms  that  stand  on  the  same  footing 
with  mathematical  or  nautical  terms.  Thus  the  very 
precision  which,  for  a  specialist,  is  indispensable  to  clear- 
ness, may  render  a  work  unintelligible  to  the  general 
public.  A  scholar,  then,  who  would  impart  knowledge 
of  science  to  the  ignorant  cannot  hope  to  place  them 
where  he  stands  ;  he  must  content  himself  with  present- 
ing facts  and  principles  in  simple  but  inexact  lan- 
guage. Even  when  a  scholar  would  convey  to  other 
scholars  a  clear  idea  of  his  subject  as  a  whole,  he  must 
sometimes  sacrifice  precision  to  clearness.  Wliat  he 
loses  in  exactness  of  statement  he  will  gain  in  breadth 
of  view. 

"  It  is  in  any  case  desirable,"  says  Professor  Jevons,  "  that  a 
purely  technical  term  like  predicate  should  not  be  needlessly  intro- 
duced into  common  language,  when  there  are  so  many  other  good 
words  wliich  might  be  used.  This  and  all  other  technical  scien- 
tific terms  should  be  kept  to  their  proper  scientific  use,  and  ^  the 
neglect  of  this  ruffe  injures  at  once  the  language  of  common  life 
and  the  language  of  science."  ^ 

"  Hence  I  would  say  to  these  philosophers,"  writes  Ruskin,  "  If, 
instead  of  using  the  sonorous  phrase,  '  It  is  objectively  so,'  you  will 
use  the  plain  old  phrase,  '  It  is  so,'  and  if  instead  of  the  sonorous 
phrase,  '  It  is  subjectively  so,'  you  will  say,  in  plain  old  English, '  It 
does  so,'  or,  '  It  seems  so  to  me,'  you  will,  on  the  whole,  be  more 
intelligible  to  your  fellow-creatures  ;  and  besides,  if  you  find  that  a 
thing  which  generally  'does  so  '  to  other  people  (as  a  gentian  looks 
blue  to  most  men),  does  not  so  to  you,  on  any  particular  occasion, 
you  will  not  fall  into  the  impertinence  of  saying,  that  the  thing  is 
not  so,  or  did  not  so,  but  you  will  say  simply  (what  you  will  be  all 
the  better  for  speedily  finding  out),  that  something  is  the  matter 
with  you."  3 

*  Query  as  to  this  use  of  avd. 

*  W.  S.  Jevons  :  Elementary  Lessons  in  Logic,  lesson  viiL 

*  Ruskin  :  Modern  Painters,  vol.  iii.  part  iv.  chap.  xii. 


94  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

The    antagonism   between   clearness  and   precision    is 

not   confined  to  subjects  that  possess  technical  vocabu- 

,.    ..    ,   laries.      General   terms    are   susceptible   of   a 

Ambiguity  of  ^ 

general  terms,  variety  of  significations,  and  those  most  fre- 
(j^uently  employed  are  susceptible  of  the  greatest  variety. 
"  Perhaps,"  says  Sir  George  Cornewall  Lewis,  "  there  is 
no  moral  or  political  treatise  of  any  length,  certainly  no 
considerable  argumentative  work,  of  which  the  conclu- 
sions are  not  in  some  degree  affected  by  an  incautious 
employment,  or  an  unperceived  ambiguity,  of  language."  ^ 

Nahcre,^  liberty,^  Church,  State,  temperance,  chai^ity, 
radical,  conservative,  democratic,  republican,  liberal,  honor- 
able, virtuous,  evidence,*  our/ht,^  right,  wrong,  are  words  that 
mean  exactly  the  same  thing  to  scarcely  any  two  men. 
Even  persons  who  apparently  agree  in  a  definition  attach 
different  meanings  to  the  terms  in  which  it  is  given,  each 
interpreting  those  terms  in  conformity  with  his  personal 
opinions. 

"  Words  are  for  the  most  part  used  relatively,  and  often  have 
more  than  one  correlative.  '  Realism '  is  opposed  to  '  Nominalism  '; 
but  it  is  also  used  in  art  as  opposed  to  '  Idealism,'  and  in  books  of 
education  as  the  opposite  of  the  study  of  language.  'Faith'  is 
sometimes  opposed  to  'Sight,'  sometimes  to  'Reason,'  sometimes 
to  '  Works.'  "  6 

"Reflect,"  writes  Cardinal  Newman,  "how  many  disputes  you 
must  have  listened  to  which  were   interminable  because  neither 

*  Lewis  :  Remarks  on  the  Use  and  Abuse  of  Political  Terras  ;  Intro- 
duction.    This  work  affords  numerous  instances  in  point. 

« J.  S.  Mill  :  Nature. 

2  Ibid.  :  E.ssay  on  Liberty.  Sir  James  Fitzjames  Stephen  :  Liberty, 
Equality,  and  Fraternity.  Archbishop  Whately  :  Elements  of  Rhetoric, 
part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  iv. 

*  Stephen  :  A  Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence  ;  Preface. 

5  Ibid.  :  Liberty,  Equality,  ami  Fraternity  ;  Note  on  Utilitarianism. 
8  W.   Johnson  :    On   the   Education    of  the    Reasoning  Faculties  ;   in 
"  Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education,"  edited  by  F.  W.  Farrar,  essay  viii. 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  95 

party  understood  either  his  opponent  or  himself.  Consider  the 
fortunes  of  an  argument  in  a  debating  society,  and  the  need  there 
so  frequently  is,  not  simply  of  some  clear  thinker  to  disentangle 
the  perplexities  of  thought,  hat  of  capacity  in  the  combatants  to 
do  justice  to  the  clearest  explanations  which  are  set  before  them, 
—  so  much  so,  that  tlie  luminous  arbitration  only  gives  rise,  per- 
haps, to  more  hopeless  altercation.  'Is  a  constitutional  govern- 
ment better  for  a  population  than  an  absolute  rule  ? '  Wliat  a 
number  of  points  have  to  be  clearly  apprehended  before  we  are  in 
a  position  to  say  one  word  on  such  a  question  !  What  is  meant 
by 'constitution' ?  by  'constitutional  government' ?  by  'better'? 
by  '  a  population '  ?  and  by  '  absolutism '  ?  The  ideas  represented  by 
these  various  words  ought,  I  do  not  say,  to  be  as  perfectly  defined 
and  located  in  the  minds  of  the  speakers  as  objects  of  sight  in  a 
landscape,  but  to  be  sufficiently,  even  though  incompletely,  appre- 
hended before  they  ^  have  a  right  to  speak."  "■' 

The  more  familiar  a  word,  the  more  diverse  its  uses 
are  likely  to  be,  and  the  greater,  therefore,  the  difficulty 
of  making  it  convey  a  specific  meaning  with  absolute 
clearness.  Thus,  in  the  question  suggested  by  Cardinal 
Newman  in  the  passage  quoted  above,  "  better "  is  the 
term  that  stands  most  in  need  of  definition. 

Sometimes  the  context  fixes  the  meaning  of  an  equivo- 
cal word,  but  frequently  it  does  not.  There  is  little 
risk,    for    example,    of   misunderstanding    the  Definitions 

'  ^  "  when  neces- 

word  "  measure  "  as  used  in  a  book  on  survey-  ^'^^y. 
ing ;  but  in  a  discussion  as  to  the  effect  of  this  or  that 
measure  of  legislation  upon  gold  as  a  measure  of  value, 
measure  might  be  equivocal.  When,  as  in  such  a  case, 
a  term  has  to  do  double  duty,  a  writer  should  apprise 
the  reader  of  the  chancje  of  meaning  wdienever  there  is  a 
possibility  of  confusion. 

'  See  page  84. 

^  Cardinal  Newman  :  The  Idea  of  a  University  ;  University  Subjects, 
Disciiiliue  of  Mind. 


96  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE 

On  the  other  hand,  a  writer  who  should  undertake  to 
use  no  word  which  he  did  not  precisely  define  would  be 
in  danger  of  communicating  to  his  reader  nothing  but  defi- 
nitions. To  determine  the  meaning  of  the  principal  sub- 
ject of  discourse  is  usually  desirable  ;  but  to  take  equal 
pains  with  every  term  is  to  sacrifice  the  more  to  the  less 
important,  the  whole  to  a  part.  Such  a  multijDlicity  of 
details  bewilders  the  reader,  and  forces  him  to  grope  from 
word  to  word  through  sentence  after  sentence,  instead  of 
being  borne  along  by  the  thought. 

According  to  some  writers,  clearness  demands  words 
derived  from  the  Anglo-Saxon  ^  rather  than  those  derived 
The  etyiTioiog-  ^^om  the  Latin  or  the  Norman-French ;  but  it 
icai  theory.  £g  ^^  |jg  noticcd  that  somc,  at  least,  of  the 
authors  ^  most  frequently  cited  in  support  of  this  theory 
chose  words,  not  because  they  came  from  this  or  that 
source,  but  because  they  served  the  purpose  in  view, 
and  that  the  works  of  some  of  the  most  ardent  cham- 
pions^ of  the  Anglo-Saxon  abound  in  words  from  the 
Latin. 

Particles,  connectives,  auxiliary  verbs,  the  grammatical 
links  of  every  sentence, —  those  words,  in  short,  which 
Choice  of        leave    no   room    for    choice, — are,   it   is    true, 

words  as 

aifected  by      almost  all  of  Saxon  origin.     So  are  the  names 

sul)ie<;t  and  ° 

purpose.  of  many  of  the  things  necessary  to  existence 
or  falling  within  universal  experience.  As  the  simplest 
feelings  may  express  themselves  better  by  a  gesture  or  an 
exclamation  than  in  eloquent  periods,  so  will  talk  about 
ordinary  matters  be  more  readily  understood  if  the  words 
used  are  so  familiar  as  to  be  almost  identified  in  the  mind 

'  This  word  is  used  for  convenience,  not  in  the  service  of  a  theory. 

2  John  Bri(,'ht,  for  instance. 

*  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  for  instance. 


CHOTCE   OF    WORDS.  97 

with  the  things  thev  sifirnifv ;  and  many  such  words  are 
Anglo-Saxon. 

Gestures  and  exclamations  are,  however,  far  from  an- 
swering all  purposes. 

"  'You  can  say  any  thing  in  it '  [pantomime],  cried  Inez. 
" '  I  don't  see  that,'  said  Eunice.     '  You  can  say  any  thing  a 
savage  wants  to  say.' 

"  '  You  cannot  say  the  Declaration  of  Independence,'  said  Harrod. 
"  *  Nor  the  Elegy  in  a  Country  Churchyard,'  said  Nolan."  ^ 

Nor  can  "  the  lower  classes  "  of  words,  so  to  speak,  per- 
form the  highest  work.  A  complex  thought  or  feeling 
requires  complex  means  of  expression,  and  many  of  the 
words  which  supply  such  means  of  expression  come, 
directly  or  indirectly,  from  the  Latin  or  the  Greek. 
To  test  the  soundness  of  these  views,  one  has  only  to 
compare  a  paragraph  from  Bunyan  with  one  from  Burke, 
or  a  poem  by  Scott  with  one  by  Milton. 

The  difference  between  the  old  and  the  newer  part, 
of  the  language  Mr.  Marsh  has  clearly  brought  out  by 
italicizing  in  two  passages  from  Irving  the  words  not 
"  native."  The  first  passage  is  from  "  The  Stout  Gentle- 
man," in  "Bracebridge  Hall;"  the  second,  from  "West-' 
minster  Abbey,"  in  "The  Sketch  Book":  — 

'"In  one  corner 2  was  a  slofjimnt  pool  of  water  swrouutlinc/  an 
island  of  muck;  there  were  seceral  half-drowned  fowls  crowded 
together  under  a  cart,  among  which  was  a  iiuAerahle  (7-(?.s7-f alien 
cock,  drenched  out  of  all  life  and  spirit ;  his  drooping  tail  matted, 
as  it  were,  into  a  single  feather,  along  which  the  water  trickled 
from  his  back ;  near  the  cart  was  a  half -dozing  cow,  chewing  the 
cud,  and  standing  patiently  to  be  rained  on,  with  wreaths  of  va/wur 
rising  from  her  reeking  hide;  a  wall-eyed  horse,  tired  of  the  lone- 
Uness  of  the  stable,  was  poking  his  spectral  head  out  of  a  window, 

1  E.  E.  Hale  :  Philip  Nolan's  Friends,  chap.  vi. 

2  Corner  should  have  been  italicized. 


98  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

with  the  rain  dripping  on  it  from  the  eaves  ;  an  unhappy  cur, 
chained  to  a  dog-liouse  hard  by,  uttered  something  every  now  and 
then  between  a  bark  and  a  yelp  ;  a  drab  of  a  kitchen  wench  tram- 
pled backwards  and  forwards  through  the  yard  in  palfens,  looking 
as  sulky  as  the  weather  itself  ;  every  thing,  in  short,  was  comfortless  ^ 
and  forlorn,  exce/)liii(/  a  crew  ^  of  hard-drinking  ducks,  assembled  like 
boon  companions  round  ^  a  puddle,  and  making  a  riotous  noise  over 
their  liquor.' 

"  '  It  was  the  tomb  of  a  crusader  ;  of  one  of  those  military  enthusi- 
asts, who  so  stranqeli/  mingled  relirjuin  and  romance,  and  whose 
exploits  form  the  connecting  link  between  fact  and  fiction,  between 
the  hislorij  and  the  fairy  tale.  There  is  something  extremely  pictur- 
esque in  the  tombs  of  these  adventurers,  decorated  as  they  are  with 
rude  armorial  bearings  and  Gothic  sculpture.  They  comport  with 
the  antiquated  chapels  in  which  they  are  generally  found;  and  in  con- 
sidering them,  the  imagination  is  apt  to  kindle  with  the  legendary 
associations,  the  romantic  fiction,  the  chicalrous  pomp  and  j>ageanlry 
which  poetry  has  spread  over  the  wars  for  the  sepulchre  of 
Christ.' 

"  In  the  first  of  these  extracts,  out  of  one  hundred  and  eighty- 
nine  words,  all  but  twenty-two  are  probably  native,  the  proportions 
beirg  respectively  eighty-nine  and  eleven  per  cent;  in  the  second, 
vvhio.h  consists  of  one  hundred  and  six  words,  we  find  no  less  than 
torty  aliens,  which  is  proportionally  more  than  three  times  as  many 
AS  m  the  first."  2 

Our  associations  with  words  of  Anglo-Saxon  origin 
often  differ  widely  from  those  called  up  by  words  from 
the  Latin.  Change  "The  Ancient  Mariner"  to  "The 
Old  Sailor,"  and  you  throw  the  mind  into  a  mood  utterly 
m harmonious  with  the  tone  of  Coleridge's  poem.  Sub- 
stitute "What  goes  to  make  up  a  State  ?"  for  Sir  William 
Jones's  "What  constitutes  a  State?"  and  you  not  only 
destroy  the  force  of  the  associations  with  "  constitutes," 
but  ajso  obscure  the  meaning.     "  It  [whist]  brings  kmd- 

^  Crew  and  rmmd  shmilil  have  been  italicized ;  -less  in  comfortless 
Bhoiild  not  have  lieen  italicized. 

2  Marsh ;  Lectures  ou  the  English  Language,  lect.  vi. 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  99 

ness  into  life  and  makes  society  cleave  together "  is  less 
clear,  as  well  as  less  vigorous,  than  Dr.  Johnson's  "  It 
generates  kindness  and  consolidates  society."  Another 
illustration  of  the  difference  between  these  two  classes 
of  words  may  be  taken  from  Disraeli's  "  Coningsby." 
The  question  was  of  "  A  Conservative  Cry  "  for  the  elec- 
tion of  1837. 

"  Tadpole  took  the  paper  and  read,  'Our  young  Queen  and  our 
old  Institutions.'  The  eyes  of  Tadpole  sparkled  as  if  they  had  met 
a  gnomic  sentence  of  Periauder  or  Thales  ;  then  turning  to  Taper 
he  said,  '  What  do  you  thhik  of  "ancient  "  instead  of  "old  "?' 

"  'You  cannot  have  "  Our  modern  Queen  and  our  ancient  Insti- 
tutions," said  Mr.  Taper.'  "  i 

One  serious  difficulty  with  the  etymological  standard  lies 
in  the  fact  that,  with  the  increasing  demands  of  civiliza- 
tion for  increased  facilities  of  expression,  words  that 
originally  bore  the  same,  or  almost  the  same,  signification 
have  received  separate  meanings.  Such  are :  hloody  and 
sanguine,  handy  and  manual,  body  and  corpse,  sheep  and 
7nutton,  feather  and  2^^uine,  shepherd  and  pastor,^  vjork 
and  travel.  Sometimes  the  noun  comes  from  one  lan- 
guage, the  adjective  from  another :  loord  and  verbal,  ship 
and  naval,  mouth  and  oral,  tooth  and  dental,  body  and 
corporal,  egg  and  oval.  Sometimes  words  for  which  there 
were  no  equivalents  in  Anglo-Saxon  have  been  taken 
from  the  Latin  or  the  Gresk:  civilization,  religion,  poli 
tics,  science,  art,  electricity,  clergy,  member  of  Congress, 
chemist,  musician,  telephone,  elevator,  veto,  album,  gratis, 
data,  dynamite,  quorum,  ignoramus,  aroma,  anemone,  pre- 
mium, ratio,  index,  vertigo,  dyspepsia,  neuralgia,  siren, 

1  Disraeli :  Coninj;sb3%  book  v.  chap.  ii. 

'^  Pastoral  is,  however,  stiii  used  in  both  the  literal  and  the  figurative 


100  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

Whatever  the  language  might  have  been  but  for  the 
Norman  Conquest,  it  is  now  a  composite  language,  in 
which  every  part  has  its  function,  every  word  in  good 
use  its  reason  for  existence.^ 

"I  would  gladly,"  writes  Landor,  "see  our  language  enriched  as 
far  as  it  can  be  without  depraving  it.  At  present  [in  the  eighteenth 
century]  we  recur  to  the  Latin  and  reject  the  baxon,  thus  strength- 
ening our  language  just  as  our  empire  is  strengthened  by  severing 
from  it  the  most  flourishing  of  its  provinces.  In  another  age,  we 
may  cut  down  the  branches  of  Latin  to  admit  the  Saxon  to  shoot 
up  again  ;  for  opposites  come  perpetually  round.  But  it  would  be 
folly  to  throw  away  a  current  and  conunodious  piece  of  money  be- 
cause of  the  stamp  upon  it,  or  to  refuse  an  accession  to  an  estate 
because  our  grandfather  could  do  without  it.  A  book  composed  of 
merely  Saxon  words  (if  such  a  thing  could  be)  would  only  prove  the 
perverseness  of  the  author.  Jt  would  be  inelegant,  inharmonious, 
and  deficient  in  the  power  of  conveying  thoughts  and  images, 
of  which,  indeed,  such  a  writer  could  have  but  extremely  few  at 
starting.     Let  the  Saxon,  however,  be  always  the  ground-work. "^ 

In  John  Bright's  style  "there  was,"  says  a  recent  writer,  "a 
consummate  union  of  simplicity  and  dignity.  Its  resources  were 
equal  to  every  demand  that  he  made  upon  it.  It  was  perfect 
for  all  purposes,  —  for  plain  narrative,  for  homely  humour,  for 
picturesque  description,  for  fierce  invective,  for  pathos,  for  state- 
liness,  for  the  expression  of  lofty  moral  sentiment,  for  imagi- 
native splendour.  To  attribute  its  unique  excellence  —  as  is  the 
habit  of  critics  —  to  Mr.  Bright's  anxiety  to  adhere  to  an  almost 
exclusive  use  of  the  Saxon  elements  of  our  language  is  an  error ;  and 
it  is  an  error  from  which  the  critics  should  have  been  saved  by  Mr. 
Bright's  delight  in  Milton,  who,  of  all  our  great  poets,  did  most 
to  enrich  our  plainer  speech  with  the  spoils  of  Greece  and  Rome. 
He  knew  exactly  the  moment  when  the  Saxon  element  of  our 
tongue  would  not  serve  him.  Mr.  Mutton  pointed  out  many  years 
ago  the  illustration  of  his  wonderful  felicity  which  is  afforded  by 

1  See  James  Hadley's  "  Brief  History  of  the  English  Language,"  re- 
vised by  G.  L.  Kittredge,  §§  40-44.  Webster's  International  Dictiouary; 
Introductory. 

a  Landor :  Conversations,  Third  Series ;  Johnson  and  Home  (Tocke). 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  101 

the  famous  sentence  in  which  he  looked  forward  to  the  time  when 
it  will  be  possible  to  say  that  '  England,  the  august  mother  of  free 
nations,  herself  is  free.'  It  is  the  word  'august,'  with  its  train  of 
splendid  imperial  associations,  that  gives  to  the  sentence  its  speil 
for  the  imagination  and  its  impressive  dignity."  ^ 

''  AVhen  I  say,"  writes  Lowell,  •'  that  Shakespeare  used  the  cur- 
rent language  of  his  day,  I  mean  only  that  he  habitually  employed 
such  language  as  was  universally  comprehensible,  —  that  he  was 
not  run  away  with  by  the  hobby  of  any  theory  as  to  the  fitness  of 
tnis  or  that  comiwnent  of  English  for  expressing  certain  thoughts 
or  feelings.  That  the  artistic  value  of  a  choice  and  noble  diction 
was  quite  as  well  understood  in  his  day  as  in  ours  is  evident  from 
the  praises  bestowed  by  his  contemporaries  on  Drayton,  and  by  the 
epithet  '  well-languaged '  applied  to  Daniel,  whose  poetic  style  is 
mainly  as  modern  as  that  of  Tennyson  ;  but  the  endless  absurdities 
about  the  comparative  merits  of  Saxon  and  Norman-French,  vented 
by  persons  incapable  of  distinguishing  one  tongue  from  the  other, 
were  as  yet  unheard  of.  Hasty  generalizers  are  apt  to  overlook 
the  fact  that  the  Saxon  was  never,  to  any  great  extent,  a  literary 
language.  Accordingly,  it  held  its  own  very  well  in  the  names  of 
common  things,  but  failed  to  answer  the  demands  of  complex 
ideas  derived  from  them.  .  .  .  For  obvious  reasons,  the  question 
is  one  that  must  be  decided  by  reference  to  prose-wiiters,  and  not 
poets;  it  is,  I  think,  pretty  well  settled  that  more  words  of  Latin 
original  were  brought  into  the  language  in  the  century  between 
1550  and  1650  than  in  the  whole  period  before  or  since,  —  and  for 
the  simple  reason  that  they  were  absolutely  needful  to  express  new 
modes  and  combinations  of  thought.  The  language  has  gained 
immensely  by  the  infusion,  in  richness  of  synonyme  and  in  the 
power  of  expressing  nice  shades  of  thought  and  feeling,  but  more 
than  all  in  light-footed  polysyllables  that  trip  singing  to  the  music 
of  ver.se.  There  are  certain  cases,  it  is  true,  where  the  vulgar 
Saxon  word  is  refined,  and  the  refined  Latin  vulgar,  in  poetry, — 
as  in  siceat  and  perxpimllnn  :  but  there  are  vastly  more  in  which  the 
Latin  bears  the  bell.  Perhaps  there  might  be  a  question  between 
the  old  English  rif/nin-rising  and  re^urvectiim  ;  but  there  can  be  no 
doubt  that  conscience  is  better  than  inidl,  and  remorse  than  ognin- 
bile.     Should  we  translate  the  title  of  Wordsworth's  famous  ode, 

1  R.  W.  Dale  :  Mr.  Bright.    The  Contemporary  Review,  May,  1889. 


102  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

'Intimations  of  Immortality'  into  'Hints  of  Deathlessness,'  it 
would  hiss  like  an  angry  gander.     If,  instead  of  Shakespeai-e's 

'Age  cannot  wither  her, 
Nor  custom  stale  her  iutiuite  variety,' 

we  should  say,  '  her  boundless  manifoldness,'  the  sentiment  would 
suti'ei-  in  exact  proportion  with  the  music.  What  homebred  English 
could  ape  the  high  Roman  fashion  of  such  togated  words  as 

'  The  multitudinous  sea  ^  incarnadiue,'  — 
where  the  huddling  epithet  implies  the  tempest-tossed  soul  of  the 
speaker,  and  at  the  same  time  pictures  the  wallawing  waste  of 
ocean  more  vividly  than  the  famous  phrase  of  jEschylus  does  its 
rippling  sunshine."  ^ 

Many  of  those  who  condemn  the  employment  of  Latin 
instead  of  Saxon  words  have  in  mind  the  pernicious  prac- 
tice of  using  long  and  unfamiliar  expressions.  Short 
and  plain  words  are  no  doubt  preferable  to  long  and 
pedantic  ones;  but  to  give  prominence  to  the  etymo- 
logical fact  is  to  substitute  an  obscure  for  an  obvious 
ground  of  preference. 

It  is,  certainly,  incumbent  on  him  who  would  write 
well  to  avoid  fine  writing,  —  that  is,  writing  intended 
The  vulgarity  to  display  his  verbal  wardrobe;  for,  as  Lord 
of  fine  writing,  chcsterfield  says,  "It  is  by  being  well  drest, 
not  finely  drest,  that  a  gentleman  should  be  distin- 
guished." ^ 

In  fine  writing,  every  clapping  of  hands  is  an  "ova- 
tion," every  fortune  "colossal,"  every  marriage  an  "alli- 
ance," every  crowd  a  "sea  of  faces."  A  hair-dresser 
becomes  a  "tonsorial  artist;"  an  apple-stand,  a  "bureau 
of  Pomona;"  an  old  carpenter,  a  "gentleman  long  iden- 
tified with  the  building  interest;"  an  old  thief,  a  "vet- 

1  See  text  in  Shakspere :  Macbeth,  act  ii.  scene  ii. 

2  James  Russell  Lowell:  Literary  Essays;  Shakespeare  Once  More. 
8  Lord  Chesterfield  :  Letter  to  his  sou,  Nov.  8,  0.  S.,  1750. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  103 

eran  appropriator"  or  an  "ancient  purloiner."  A  man 
does  not  breakfast,  he  "discusses  (or  "partakes  of") 
the  morning  repast;"  he  does  not  go  to  dinner,  he 
"repairs  to  the  festive  board;"  he  does  not  go  home, 
he  "proceeds  (or  "wends  his  way")  to  his  residence;" 
he  does  not  go  to  bed,  he  "  retires  to  his  downy 
couch;"  he  does  not  lie  on  the  grass,  he  "reclines 
upon  the  greensward;"  he  no  longer  waltzes,  he  "par- 
ticipates in  round  dances ;"  he  is  not  thanked,  he  is  "  the 
recipient  of  grateful  acknowledgments;"  he  sits,  not 
for  his  portrait,  but  for  his  "counterfeit  presentment." 
A  house  is  not  building,  but  is  "in  process  of  erection;" 
it  is  not  all  burned  down,  but  is  "  destroyed  in  its  entirety 
by  the  devouiing  element."  A  ship  is  not  launched, 
it  "elides  into  its  native^  element."  When  a  man  nar- 
rowly  escapes  drowning,  "  the  waves  are  balked  of  their 
prey."  Not  only  presidents,  but  aqueducts,  millinery 
shops,  and  miners'  strikes  are  "inaugurated."  We  no 
longer  threaten,  we  "indulge  in  minatory  expressions." 
Modest  "I"  has  given  place  to  pompous  "we."^ 

"  That  right  line  '  I'  is  the  very  shortest,  simplest,  straightfor- 
wardest  means  of  communication  between  us,  and  stands  for  what 
it  is  worth  and  no  more.  Sometimes  authors  say  '  The  present 
writer  has  often  remarked  ; '  or  '  The  undersigned  has  observed  ; ' 
or  'Mr.  Roundabout  presents  his  compliments  to  the  gentle 
reader,  and  begs  to  state,'  &c. ;  but  '  I '  is  better  and  straighter 
than  all  these  grimaces  of  modesty  :  and  although  these  are  Round- 
about Papers,  and  may  wander  who  knows  whither,  I  shall  ask 
leave  to  maintain  the  upright  and  simple  perpendicular."  ^ 

A'erbal  finery  is  regarded  by  some  as  suitable  to  the 
pulpit.     An  American  clergyman,  for  instance,  was  sub- 

1  Why  "  native  "  ? 

2  For  otlier  exam ])les,  see  "  Tlie  Foundations  of  Rhetoric,"  pp.  176-180. 
8  Thackeray;  liouiidabout  Papers;  Uu  Two  Children  in  JJlack. 


104  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

lected  to  severe  censure  for  usini?  the  word  "beans"  in 
a  sermon,  and  a  writer  in  an  English  magazine  says  that 
he  remembers  "  quite  ^  a  sensation  running  through  a 
congregation  when  a  preacher,  one  evening,  instead  of 
talking  about  '  habits  of  cleanliness '  and  the  '  necessity 
of  regular  ablution,'  remarked  that  'plenty  of  soap  and 
water  had  a  healthy  bracing  effect  upon  the  body,  and 
so  indirectly  benefited  the  mind.'  "  ^ 

In  a  dialogue  between  Mrs.  Vincy  and  Kosamond, 
George  Eliot  sets  her  mark  on  fine  language :  — 

"  'But  I  shall  not  marry  any  Midcllemarch  young  man.' 

" '  tio  it  seems,  my  love,  for  you  have  as  good  as  refused  the 
pick  of  them ;  and,  if  there  's  better  to  be  had,  I  'm  sure  there  '3 
no  girl  better  deserves  it.' 

"  '  Excuse  me,  mamma.  I  vfish  you  would  not  say  "  the  pick 
of  them." ' 

"  '  Why,  what  else  are  they  ?  * 

"  'I  mean,  mamma,  it  is  rather  a  vulgar  expression.' 

'"Very  likely,  my  dear,  1  was  never  a  good  speaker.  What 
should  I  say  ?  ' 

"'The  best  of  them.' 

"  '  Why,  that  seems  just  as  plain  and  common.  If  T  had  had  time 
to  think,  I  should  have  said  "  the  most  superior  young  men."  '  "  s 

A  potent  cause  of  the  preference  for  fine  over  simple 
language  is  the  desire  to  be  witty  or  humorous.  For 
this  taste,  Dickens  —  inimitable  at  his  best,  but  easily 
imitated  at  his  worst  —  is  in  a  great  measure  responsible. 

"  The  Chuzzlewit  Family  .  .  .  was,  in  the  very  earliest  times, 
closely  connected  with  the  agricultural  interest."  * 

"'I  have  heard  it  said,  Mrs.  Ned,'  returned  Mr,  George,  an- 
grily, '  that  a  cat  is  free  to  contemplate  a  monarch.' "  ^ 

^  See  page  40. 

^  C.  H.  Grundy:  Dull  Sermons.     Macmillan's  Magazine,  July,  1876. 

*  George  Eliot:  MicMlemarch,  book  i.  chap.  xi. 

♦  Dickens :  Martin  Chuzzlewit,  chap.  i.  ^  Ibid.,  chap.  iv. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  105 

" '  The  domestic  assistants,' '  said  Mr.  Pecksniff, '  sleep  above. '  "^ 
"It  [Peclvsiiiff's  eye]  had  been  piously  upraised,  with  something 
of  that  expression  which  the  poetry  of  ages  has  attributed  to  a 
domestic  bird,  when  breathing  its  last  amid  the  ravages  of  an  elec- 
tric storm  "  (a  duck  in  a  thunder  storm). ^ 

One  form  of  fine  writing  is  the  designation  of  a  spe- 
cific object  by  a  general  term,  whicli  seems  to  magnify  its 
proportions  but  whicli  really  destroys  its  individuality. 

"Of  course,  on  the  great  rise,  down  came  a  swarm  of  prodigious 
timber-rafts  ironi  the  head  waters  of  the  Mississippi,  coal  barges 
from  Pittsburg,  little  ti'ading  scows  from  everywhei-e,  and  broad- 
horns  from  'Posey  County,'  Indiana,  freighted  with  '  fruit  and  fur- 
niture'—  the  usual  term  for  describing  it,  though  in  plam  English 
the  freight  thus  aggrandised  was  hoop-poles  and  pumpkins."* 

The  effect  produced  on  the  mind  by  general  as  com- 
pared with  specific  terms  is  analogous  to  that  produced 
on  the  eye  by  distant  as  compared  with  gg^erai  or 
near  objects.  Some  writers  on  rhetoric  &  specific  terms  ? 
maintain  that  the  idea  conveyed  by  a  general  term  or 
the  picture  made  by  a  distant  object,  though  less  vivid 
than  that  produced  by  an  individual  term  or  a  near  ob- 
ject, is  equally  clear  as  far  as  it  goes.  Everybody  is, 
however,  in  the  habit  of  saying  that  he  cannot  "clearly 
make  out"  a  distant  object, —  a  remark  implying  that 
what  is  seen  raises  questions  which  cannot  be  answered 
until  one  approaches  the  object.  In  like  manner,  a  gen- 
eral term  suggests  questions  which  only  specific  knowl- 
edge can  answer.     The  assertion  that  Major  Andrd  was 

^  These  words  are  in  character, 
2  Dickens:  Martin  Chuzzlewit,  chap.  v. 
"  Ibid.,  chap.  x. 

*  Mnrk  Twain  :  Life  on  the  Mississippi,  chap.  x. 

•>  Campbell:    The  riiiiosopliy  of  ]\hetoric,  book  iii.  chap.  i.  sect,  i 
Whately :  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  i. 
5* 


106  EHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

executed  is  clear  as  to  the  fact  that  he  suffered  death, 
but  is  not  clear  as  to  the  manner  of  his  death ;  the  as- 
sertion that  he  was  executed  as  a  spy  is  clear  to  those 
who  know  the  laws  of  war ;  the  assertion  that  he  was 
hanged  is  perfectly  clear  to  everybody  who  knows  what 
hanging  is.  If  we  hear  that  a  friend  has  had  "  a  piece  of 
good  fortune,"  we  are  in  the  dark  as  to  its  exact  nature 
until  we  have  clearer,  because  more  specific,  information. 
When  the  report  came  (in  1876)  that  "  the  Turkish  troops 
committed  many  atrocities  in  Bulgaria,"  people  either  dis- 
missed it  as  too  vague  to  mean  anything,  or  thought,  some 
of  one,  some  of  another  kind  of  atrocity ;  but  when  the 
papers  said  that  fifty  cities  had  been  burned  and  ten 
thousand  old  men  and  children  put  to  the  sword,  every- 
body understood  what  the  Turks  had  been  doing. 

"The  usual  faintness  of  highly  generalised  ideas  is  forcibly 
brought  home  to  us  by  the  sudden  increase  of  vividness  that 
our  conception  of  a  substantive  is  sure  to  receive  when  an  ad- 
jective is  joined  to  it  that  limits  the  generalisation.  Thus  it 
is  very  difficult  to  form  a  mental  conception  corresponding  to 
the  word  '  afternoon  ; '  but  if  we  hear  the  words  '  a  wet  after- 
noon,' a  mental  pictui'e  arises  at  once,  that  has  a  fair  amount 
of  definition.  If,  however,  we  take  a  step  further  and  expand 
the  phrase  to  'a  wet  afternoon  in  a  country  house,'  the  mind 
becomes  crowded  with  imagery."  ^ 

Instances  of  the  superior  value  of  individual  or  specific 
terms,  as  compared  with  general,  abound  in  good  writers. 
For  example :  — 

"  Up  from  my  cabin, 
My  sea-gown  srarf'd  about  me,  in  the  dark 
Groped  I  to  find  out  tbem ;  had  my  desire, 
Finrjer'd  their  packet,  and  in  fine  withdrew 
To  mine  own  room  again  ;  making  so  bold, 

1  Francis  Galton :  Psychometric  Facts.  The  Nineteenth  Century, 
March,  1879,  p.  432. 


CHOICE  OF  WOEDS.  ]07 

My  fears  forgetting  nianiierc:,  to  unseal 
Their  graud  coiumissiou."  ^ 

'-  Hiiu  tliere  tliey  found 
Squat  like  a  ioad,  close  at  tlie  ear  of  Eve.''  ^ 

"  Tlie  thin  blue  flame 
Lies  on  my  low  burnt  fire,  and  quivers  uot ; 
Ou;y  \A\3XJilm,  -wKich.  Jiuttered  on  the  grate, 
Still /u«ers  there."  ^ 
"  It  was  a  close,  ivarm,  breezeless  summer  night, 
Wan,  dull,  aud  (jlarimj,  witli  a  dripping  fog 
Low-hunrj  and  thick  that  covered  all  the  sky."  * 

" But  tlie  Kitteu,  how  she  starts, 

Crouches,  stretches,  paws,  and  darts  !  "  ^ 
"You've   the  broivn  ploughed  land   before,  where  the  oxen  stean   and 

wneeze.''^ 
"  Where  the  long  grasses  stifle  the  water  within  the  stream's  bed."^ 

"  Burlji,  dozing  humble-bee, 
Where  thou  art  is  clime  for  me."^ 

"The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes. 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory."* 

"The  lights  begin  to  twinkle  from  the  rocks  : 
The  long  day  wanes  :  the  sloio  moon  climbs  :  the  deep 
Moans  round  with  many  voices."  " 

Specific  terms  are  used  with  great  skill  in  Tennyson's 

account  of  what  happened  when  the  prince  awakened  the 

sleeping  beauty :  — 

"A  touch,  a  kiss!  the  charm  was  snapt. 
Thore  rose  a  noise  of  striking  clocks, 
And  feet  that  ran,  and  doors  tliat  clapt, 
And  barking  dogs,  and  crowing  cocks; 

1  Shakspere  :  Hamlet,  net  v.  scene  ii. 

2  MiUon  :  Paradi.se  T.ost,  book  iv.  line  799. 
8  Coleridge  :  Frost  at  Midnight. 

*  William  Wordsworth  :  The  Prelude,  book  xir. 

'  Ibid. :  The  Kitten  and  Falling  Leaves. 

8  Browning  :  Up  at  a  Villa  —  Down  in  the  City.       ^  Ibid. :  Saoi. 

8  Emerson  :  The  Hnmble-Bee. 

9  Alfred  Tennyson  :  Song  in  "  The  Princess."        i^  Ibid. :  Llysses. 


108  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

A  fuller  light  illumined  all, 

A  breeze  thro'  all  the  garden  swept, 
A  sudden  hubbub  shook  the  hall, 

And  sixty  feet  the  fountain  leapt. 

"The  hedge  broke  in,  tlie  banner  blew, 

The  butler  drank,  the  steward  scrawl'd, 
The  fire  shot  up,  the  niaitin  Hew, 

The  parrot  scream 'd,  the  peacock  squall'd, 
The  maid  and  page  renew'il  their  strife. 

The  palace  bang'd,  and  l)uzz'd  and  clackt, 
And  all  the  long  pent  stream  of  life 

Dash  d  downward  in  a  lataract."  ^ 

Another  excellent  example  of  the  use  of  specific  terms 
is  the  passage  quoted  for  another  purpose^  from  Irving's 
'"Stont  Gentleman." 

It  will  generally  be  found  that  the  more  specific  a  word, 
the  less  likely  it  is  to  bs  bookish.  In  a  real  exigency, 
Bookish  everybody  grasps  at  the  w^ord  that  points  to  the 

^°''^^'  individual  person  or  thing  he  is  speaking  of ; 

and  the  greater  his  interest,  the  greater  the  probability 
that  his  word  will  exactly  express  his  meaning.  To 
"talk  like  a  book,"  on  the  other  hand,  means  to  use 
words  that  are  unnecessarily  abstract  and  general,  — 
words  that  belontr  to  books  rather  than  to  life. 

Not  that  general  terms  should  be  discarded  either  from 
conversation  or  from  print.  They  are,  indeed,  indispen- 
uses  of  en-  ^^^^^  ^^  ^  kuguagc  which  does  any  but  the 
erai  terms.  lowcst  work.  Answering  to  no  one  thing  in 
particular,  they  sum  up  in  a  convenient  short-hand  for- 
mula the  characteristics  of  a  number  of  things.  If,  hav- 
ing no  class  names,  we  were  obliged  in  every  instance 
to  enumerate  the  members  of  a  class,  —  if,  instead  of 
speaking  of  "  literature,"  we  were  obliged  to  give  a  cata- 
logue of  the  books  that    form  literature,  or,  instead  of 

1  Tennyson  :  The  Day-Dream.  *  See  page  97. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  109 

speaking  of  "  nations,"  to  say  Eussians,  Austrians,  etc.,  — 
we  should  never  have  done. 

General  terms  are  preferable  to  specific  in  cases  in 
which  clearness  is  not  the  primary  object,  —  when,  for 
instance,  a  writer  wishes  to  leave  an  object  in  obscurity 
in  order  either  to  avoid  vulgar  associations,  or  to  produce 
the  effect  of  vagueness  and  mystery,  or  to  create  a  back- 
ground for  something  more  important. 

Euphemisms  ^  —  fine  substitutes  for  plain  language  — 
often  spring  from  the  desire  to  veil  an  unpleasant  fact 
under  words  that  do  not  clearly  individualize  it.  Hence 
the  use  of  casket  for  "  coffin,"  passing  away  for  "  dying," 
abstraction  for  "pilfering,"  a  delicate  transaction  or  a 
questionable  act  for  "  a  crime,"  bad  habits  or  disorderly 
conduct  for  "drunkenness,"  hair-wash  for  "hair-dje,"  a 
gay  young  man  for  "a  dissipated  young  man,"  road 
agents  for  "highway  robbers,"  misappropriation  of  prop- 
erty for  "  embezzlement,"  irregularities  for  "  forgeries," 
sample-room  or  saloon  for  "bar-room,"  the  late  unpleas- 
antness for  "  the  late  Civil  War,"  society,  environment,  and 
tendency'^  ioT  "  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil."  Hence 
all  the  unnecessarily  general  expressions  used  by  persons 
of  all  sorts  and  conditions,  from  the  criminal  who  would 
rather  not  call  his  crime  by  its  name  to  the  preacher 
who,  with  his  mind  on  an  individual  sinner,  lashes  vice 
m  the  abstract. 

General  terms  are  serviceable  in  "  breaking  bad  news." 
A  familiar  example  occurs  in  Macbeth.^  Ross,  who  has 
come  to  tell  Macduff  that  his  castle  has  been  surprised 
and  his  wife  and  children  slaughtered,  begins  by  enumer- 
ating the  woes  of  Scotland.     He  then  slowly  approaches 

^  From  e5,  well,  and  ^rj/xf,  say. 

'  The  expression  of  a  London  clergyman.         ^  Act  iv.  scene  iii 


110  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

that  part  of  the  general  suffering  which  touches  Macduff 
most  nearly,  and  at  last  tells  him  exactly  what  has 
happened. 

General   terms   sometimes    by   their  very  vagueness 
stimulate  the  imagination.     For  example:  — 

"  Will  no  one  tell  me  what  she  sings  ?  — 
Feriiaps  tlie  plaintive  numbers  flow 
Eor  old,  unhappi),  far-off  tlihujs."  '^ 

"  A  privacy  of  glorious  liglit  is  thine."  ^ 

"  Enclosed 
In  a  tumultuous  privacy  of  storm."  * 

"Or  Music  pours  on  mortals 
Its  beautiful  disdain."  '^ 

"Interpose  at  the  difiiculi  minute,  snatch  Saul,  the  mistake, 
Saul,  the  failure,  the  ruin,  he  seems  now,  —  and  bid  him  awake 
From  the  dream,  the  probation,  tlie  jjrelude,  to  find  liiniself  set 
Clear  and  safe  in  new  light  and  new  life,  — a  new  harmony  yet. 
To  be  run  and  continued,  and  ended  —  who  knows  1"^ 

"  But  she  — 
The  glory  of  life,  the  beauty  of  the  world. 

The  splendour  of  heaven, 

....  that 's  fast  dying  while  we  talk."  « 

"It  has  been  noted  how  well-chosen   is   the   epithet  'water' 
applied  to  a  lake  in  the  lines,  — 

'  On  one  side  lay  the  ocean,  and  on  one 
Lay  a  great  water,  and  the  moon  was  full.' 

...  In  the  night  all  Sir  Bedevere  could  observe,  or  care  to  observe, 
was  that  there  was  '  some  great  water.'  We  do  not  —  he  did  not  — 
want  to  know  exactly  what  it  was.  Other  thoughts,  other  cares, 
preoccupy  him  and  us.  Again,  of  dying  Arthur  we  are  told  that 
*all  his  greaves   and  cuisses  were  dashed  with  drops  of   onset.' 

1  Wordsworth  :  The  Solitary  Reaper. 

2  Ibid.  :  To  a  Sky-Lark. 

3  Emerson  :  The  Snow-Storm.  *  Ibid.  :  The  World-SouL 

*  Browning  :  Saul. 

*  Ibid. :  The  Ring  and  the  Book;  Giuseppe  Caponsacchi. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  Ill 

^  Onset '  is  a  very  generic  term,  poetic  because  removed  from  all 
vulgar  associations  of  coiiiuion  parlance,  and  vaguely  suggestive  not 
only  of  war's  pomp  and  circumstance,  but  of  high  deeds  also,  and 
heroic  hearts,  since  onset  belongs  to  mettle  and  daring ;  the  word 
for  vast  and  shadowy  connotation  is  akin  to  Milton's  grand  ab- 
straction, '  Far  off  His  coininrj  shone,'  or  Shelley's,  '  Where  the 
Earthquake  Demon  caught  her  young  Ruin.'"  i 

The  proportion  of  general  terms  as  compared  with 
specific  varies  with  the  kind  of  composition.  In  philo- 
sophical works,  for  example,  there  is  a  larger  proportion 
of  general  terms  than  in  historical  or  dramatic ;  in  Milton 
there  is  a  larger  proportion  than  in  Shakspere. 


SECTION  n. 

FOECE. 

In  some  kinds  of  composition,  clearness  is  of  primary 
importance.  Such  are  judicial  opinions,  expositions  of 
doctrine,   chronicles   of   events,  text-books   of  Meaning  and 

n  •    •  •  1  f>        1    •    1         1         value  of 

science,  —  all  writmgs,  m  short,  or  which  the  force, 
sole  purpose  is  to  convey  information.  If,  however,  the 
communication  of  knowledge  is  not  the  sole  aim,  or  if  the 
reader's  attention  cannot  be  taken  for  granted,  the  lan- 
guage should  be  not  only  clear  but  effective.  A  man 
whose  eyes  are  shut  or  are  turned  away  from  an  object 
will  not  see  that  object,  however  clear  the  atmosphere: 
he  must  be  made  to  open  his  eyes  and  to  turn  them  in  the 
desired  direction.  Another  man,  though  he  sees  the  ob- 
ject, may  take  little  interest  in  what  he  sees:  his  sympa- 
thies have  not  been  awakened,  his  passions  aroused,  or 
his  imagination  set  to  woik.     The    quality    in    language 

^  Eoden  Noel :  The  Toetry  of  Tennyson.    The  Contemporary  Eeview, 

February,  1885. 


112  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

that  appeals  to  the  emotions  or  the  imagination  is  known 
under  various  names.  Campbell  calls  it  vivacit/j,Whsite\y 
energy}  Bain  strength;  but  a  style  may  be  vivacious  with- 
out being  energetic,  or  energetic  without  being  strong,  or 
strong  without  being  vivacious,  A  better  term  is  one 
borrowed  from  the  nomenclature  of  science,  —  force. 

Proceeding  to  inquire  how  to  choose  words  which  shall 
give  force  to  language,  we  perceive,  in  tlie  first  place,  that 
sjundthat       many  of  the  principles  of  selection  which  ap- 

suggests 

seu.e.  ply  to  cleamcss  apply  to  force  also.     The  uni- 

vocal,  short,  specific,  and  familiar  word  will,  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases,  be  the  forcible  word.  Such,  to  take  a 
simple  instance,  are  words  of  which  the  sound  suggests 
the  meaning.  For  example :  whir,  whiz,  roar,  splash, 
crash,  crunch,  thud,  buzz,  liuhhub,  murmur,  whisper,  hiss, 
rattle,  hoom,  chickadee,  cuclwo,  whip-poor-will,  bumble-bee, 
humviing-bird,  and  the  italicized  words  in  the  following 
passages :  — 

"  On  a  sudden  open  fly 
With  impetuous  recoil  -mwI  jurnng  sound 
Th'  infernal  doors,  and  on  their  hinges  grate 
Harsh  thunder."  2 

"  On  the  ear 

Drops  the  light  drip  of  the  suspended  oar, 

Or  chirps  the  grasshopper  one  good-night  carol  more."' 

Such  are  many  interjections  :  as,  heigh-ho  !  whew  !  hist ! 
hang  !  ding-dong  !  pooh  !  hush  f 

These  and  similar  words  are  clear  and  forcible,  both 
because  they  are  specific,  and  because  they  are  so  familiar 
that  they  may  be  accounted  natural  symbols  rather  than 

*  Aristotle's  ev/pyeia. 

2  Milton  :  J  aradi.se  Lost,  book  ii.  line  879. 

8  Bjrou  ;  Childo  Harold's  Tilgriniage,  canto  iii.  stanza  IxxxvL 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  113 

arbitrary  signs ;  but  when  they  become  a  mere  trick  of 
style,  they  lose  their  value.  The  safe  course  is  neither  to 
reject  a  word  because  its  sound  helps  to  communicate  the 
meaning,  nor  to  strain  after  such  an  expression  at  the  lisk 
of  giving  more  importance  to  sound  than  to  sense.  In 
this,  as  in  other  matters,  the  appearance  of  art  is  offen- 
sive.    A  writer's  first  duty  is  to  be  natural. 

Thus  it  appears  that  in  many  cases  a  word  fulfils  the 
requirements  of  clearness  and  force  equally  well ;  but 
often  an  expression  which  is  peifectly  clear  a  dear 
is  deficient  in  force.    If,  for  instance,  a  writer  *iot  ah\ay° 
wishes  to  say  something  about  a  class  of  ob- 
jects, he  will  be  as  well  understood  if.  he  speaks  of  the 
class  as  if  he  presents  a  single  object  as   a  sample  of 
the  class ;  but  the  latter  method  will  be  the  more  likely 
to   arrest    attention.      Tiie    contrast    between   the   two 
methods  is  shown  by  Campbell :  — 

*' '  Consider,'  says  our  Lord,  '  the  liUes  how  they  grow :  they  toil 
not,  they  spin  not;  and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  Solomon  in  all 
his  glory  was  not  arrayed  like  one  of  these.  If,  then,  God  so  clothe 
the  grass  which  to-day  is  in  the  field  and  to-morrow  is  cast  into 
the  oven,  how  much  more  will  he  clothe  you?'  "^ 

"  Let  us  here  adopt  a  little  of  the  tasteless  manner  of  modern 
paraphrasts  by  the  substitution  of  more  general  terms,  one  of 
their  many  expedients  of  infrigidating,  and  let  us  observe  the  eifect 
produced  by  this  change.  'Consider  the  flowers  how  they  gradu- 
ally increase  in  their  size  ;  they  do  no  manner  of  work,  and  yet  I 
declare  to  you  that  no  king  whatever,  in  his  most  splendid  habit, 
is  dressed  up  like  them.  If,  then.  Cod  in  his  providence  doth  so 
adorn  the  vegetable  productions  which  continue  but  a  little  time 
on  the  land,  and  are  afterward  put  into  the  fire,  how  much  more 
will  he  provide  clothing  for  you? '"2 

In  the  paraphrase  the  thought  is  expressed  as  clearly  as  in  the 

^  Luke  Nil.  27,  28 

*  Campbell:  The  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  uook  in.  chap.  i.  sect.  i. 


114  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

original,  and  more  exactly;  but  the  comparison,  in  the  original, 
between  a  common  flower  and  the  most  magnificent  of  kings  is 
far  more  striking  than  the  expression  of  the  same  idea  in  general 
terms;  and  it  is  equally  clear,  for  the  mind,  without  conscious 
exertion,  understands  that  what  is  true  of  the  lily  as  compared 
with  Solomon  is  true  of  all  flowers  as  compared  with  all  men. 
Another  example  is  furnished  by  the  following  passages  :  ^  — 
"In  large  bodies,  the  circulation  of  power  must  be  less  vigorous 
at  the  extremities.  Nature  has  said  it.  The  Turk  cannot  govern 
^^gypt  and  Arabia,  and  Cui'distan,  as  he  governs  Thrace ;  nor  has 
he  the  same  dominion  in  Crimea  and  Algiers,  w'hich  he  has  at 
Brusa  and  Smyrna.  Despotism  itself  is  obliged  to  truck  and 
huckster.  The  Sultan  gets  such  obedience  as  he  can.  He  gov- 
ei'ns  with  a  loose  rein,  that  he  may  govern  at  all ;  and  the  whole 
of  the  force  and  vigour  of  his  authority  in  his  centre  is  derived 
from  a  prudent  relaxation  in  all  his  borders."  ^ 

"  In  all  the  despotisms  of  the  East,  it  has  been  observed,  that  the 
further  any  part  of  the  empire  is  removed  from  the  capital,  the 
more  do  its  inhabitants  enjo}'  some  sort  of  rights  and  privileges ; 
the  more  inefficacious  is  the  power  of  the  monarch ;  and  the  more 
feeble  and  easily  decayed  is  the  organization  of  the  government, 
&c."  8 

The  substitution  of  a  less  general  for  a  more  general 
term  is  the  simplest  kind  of  trope,*  or  figure  of  speech, 
—  the   word   being    turned     from    its    usual 
meaning  and  employed  in  a  figurative,  as  dis- 
tinguished from  a  literal,  sense. 

To  enumerate  all  the  classes  into  which  tropes  have 
been  divided  by  rhetoricians  would  be  to  perplex  and 
fatigue  the  reader.  Tropes  are,  indeed,  the  very  stuff 
of  human  language;   for  many  words  which  have  lost 

1  Quoted  from  Burke's  "Select  Works"  (Clarendou  Press  Series); 
Introduction. 

2  Burke  :  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America. 

8  Lord  Brougham  :  Inquiry  into  the  Coiouial  Policy  of  the  European 
Powers. 

*  TpoVos,  from  Tpirai  turn. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  115 

their  original  meaning  are  now  literal  in  a  sense  once 
figurative.  Thus,  we  speak  of  an  ediftjing  discourse,  but 
no  longer  of  "  edifying  a  cathedral ; "  of  spiritual  ardor, 
but  not  of  the  "  ardor  of  a  fire ; "  of  an  acute  vdnd,  but 
not  of  an  "acute  razor;"  oi philosophical  speculation,  but 
not  of  "  speculation  in  those  eves ; "  ^  of  the  levity  of  a 
conversatio7i,  but  not  of  the  "levity  of  cork." 

"  Thinkest  thou,"  asks  Carlyle,  "  there  were  no  poets  till  Dan 
Chaucer  ?  No  heart  burning  with  a  thought,  which  it  could  not 
hold,  and  had  no  word  for ;  and  needed  to  shape  and  coin  a  word 
for,  —  what  thou  callest  a  metaphor,  trope,  or  the  like?  For  every 
■word  we  have,  there  was  such  a  man  and  poet.  The  coldest  word 
was  once  a  glowing  new  metaphor,  and  bold  questionable  orig- 
uiality.  '  Thy  very  attention,  does  it  not  mean  an  utleniio,  a 
STRETCHiNG-TO?'  Fancy  that  act  of  the  mind,  which  all  were 
conscious  of,  which  none  had  yet  named,  —  when  this  new  '  poet ' 
first  felt  bound  and  driven  to  name  it !  His  questionable  original- 
ity, and  new  glowing  metaphor,  was  found  adoptable,  intelligible; 
and  remains  our  name  for  it  to  this  day."  ^ 

Numerous  words  are  still  used  in  both  a  literal  and  a 
figurative  meaning.  Such  are  those  originally  applied 
to  objects  of  the  senses,  and  subsequently  words  at  once 
extended  to  mental  phenomena.  Minds  and  figurative, 
mirrors  alike  reflect ;  there  are  sources  of  information  as 
well  as  of  rivers,  flights  of  fancy  as  well  as  of  birds ;  we 
launch  new  projects  as  well  as  new  vessels;  we  store 
knowledge  as  well  as  merchandise ;  we  sound  the  depths 
of  grief  as  well  as  of  water.  We  speak  of  "  a  hard  lot," 
'■'  soft  manners,"  "  a  harsh  temper,"  "  a  sweet  disposition," 
"  a  sharp  tongue,"  "  a  light  heart,"  "  a  heavy  sorrow,"  "  a 
quick  mind,"  "  a  white  soul,"  "  stormy  passions." 

Some  words  have  been  used  so  often  in  the  same  figure 
that  the  figure  has  lost  its  force ;  but,  if  the  words  retain 

^  Macbeth,  iii.  4.        ^  Carlyle :  Past  and  Present,  book  ii.  chap.  xviL 


116  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

their  literal  meaning,  the  figure  may,  in  the  hands  of  a 
skilful  writer,  become  as  fresh  as  ever.     For  example :  — 

"His  diction  is  Jluwiiu/  and  harmonious,  and  the  'flowing'  may 
be  said  of  it  advisedly,  because  it  always  Jinds  its  own  leuel."  ^ 

"To  convince  Carp  of  his  mistal^e,  so  that  he  would  have  to  eat 
his  own  words  with  a  good  deal  of  indigestion,  would  be  au  agree- 
able accident  of  triumphant  authorship."^ 

A  word  that  still  exists  in  both  a  literal  and  a  figura- 
tive sense  should  be  used  in  a  manner  consistent  with 
both  meanings,  whenever  both  meanings  are  likely  to  be 
suggested.  One  may  "throw  light "  on  obscurities  but  not 
unravel  them,  "  unravel "  perplexities  but  not  throw  light 
on  them.  Knowledge  may  be  "drawn  from"  or  "derived 
from"  sources  of  information,  but  not  based  on  or  repeated 
from  them. 

"  Our  language,"  says  Bain,  "  has  many  combinations  of  words, 
indifferent  as  regards  the  metaphor,  but  fixed  by  use,  and  there- 
fore not  to  be  departed  from.  We  say  '  use  or  employ  means,'  and 
'take  steps,'  but  not  use  steps.  One  may  acquire  knowledge,  lake 
degrees,  contract  habits,  la//  up  treasure,  obtain  rewards,  win  prizes, 
gain  celebrity,  arrire  at  honours,  cnndnct  affairs,  espouse  aside,  inter- 
pose authorit}^  pursue  a  course,  turn  to  account,  serve  for  a  warning, 
bear  no  malice,  profess  principles,  culliuote  acquaintance,  pass  over 
in  silence;  all  which  expressions  owe  their  suitability,  not  to  the 
onginal  sense  of  the  words,  but  to  the  established  usages  of  the 
language."  * 

In  another  class  of  the  tropes  which  invigorate  expres- 
sion, a  part  is  put  for  the  whole,  a  species  for  the  genus. 
Synecdoche  an  individual  for  the  species,  the  abstract  for 
metonymy.  the  couciete,  or  vice  versa,  —  the  figure  m  each 
of  these  cases  being  that  which  is  called  in  the  old  books 

1  Mrs.  Browning  :  Letters  to  Richard  Hengist  Home,  letter  xlii. 

2  George  Eliot  :  Middlemarch,  book  iv.  chap.  xlii. 

•  Alexander  Bain  :  English  Composition  and  Rhetoric,  part  i.  cliap.  L 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  117 

synecdoche:^  or  the  cause  is  put  for  the  effect,  the  sign 
for  the  thing  signified,  an  adjunct  for  the  principal,  an 
instrument  for  tlie  agent,  or  vice  versa, —  the  figure  in 
each  of  these  cases  being  called  metonymy?  The  distinc- 
tion between  synecdoche  and  metonymy  still  lingers  in 
some  school-rooms ;  but  it  is  obviously  of  no  practical 
value,  for  the  force  of  tropes  belonging  to  either  class  lies 
in  the  fact  that  they  single  out  a  quality  of  the  object,  or 
a  circumstance  connected  with  it,  and  fix  the  attention 
upon  that.  The  quality  or  the  circumstance  thus  empha- 
sized should,  of  course,  be  the  real  centre  of  interest. 
Familiar  examples  are :  — 

Tiie  bench,  the  bar,  the  pulpil,  for  "  the  judges  on  the  bench," 
"the  lawyers  within  the  bar,"  "the  clergymen  in  the  pulpit;" 
horse  and  /oo/ for  "  soldiers  on  horseback  and  on  iooi;"  i-ecf  tape 
for  "that  which  uses  red  tape;"  "twenty  sail  in  the  offing"  tor 
"  twenty  vessels  with  sails  ;  "  "  The  pen  is  mightier  than  (he  stcord  "* 
for  "The  instruments  of  peace  are  mightier  than  those  of  war;" 
"Her  cnvimcrce  whitens  every  sea;"  "He  was  all  impatience ;" 
"Up  goes  my  grave  impudence :"  ^  "He  keeps  a  good  table;" 
"To  be  young  was  very  Heaven  i''^  "The  fortress  was  weakness 
itself;"  "a  Daniel  come  to  judgement;"^  "some  village  Hamp- 
den;'"'' "a  carpet-bar/  senator;"  "Go  up,  thou  bald  head ;"^ 
"  bring  down  my  graj/  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave."* 

The  most  common  and,  generally  speaking,  the  most 
serviceable  of  tropes  is  the  simile  or  metaphor.      The 

1  From  avv,  together  with,  and  t/fSe'xoAtai,  take  or  understand  in  a  cer- 
tain sense. 

■^  From  ixerd,  implying  change,  and  ivo^a,  name. 

8  Bulwer  (Lyttou)  :  Kichelieu,  act  ii.  scene  ii. 

4  Tlie  'I'atler,  No.  32. 

*  Wordsworth :  The  Prelude,  book  xi. 

8  Shakspere  :  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  iv.  scene  L 

'  Gray  :  Elegy  written  in  a  Country  ChurchyarcL 

8  2  Kings  ii.  23. 

B  Geuesi:i  xlii.  38. 


US  EHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

two  may  be  considered  as  one,  since  they  differ  only 
in  form.  The  simile  affirms  that  one  ohject  or  act  is 
-.  .,       ,      like  another ;    the  metaphor  calls  one  bv  the 

Similes  and  '  J-  " 

metaphors.  name  of  tlic  otlier :  that  is  to  say,  tlie  simile 
expresses  distinctly  what  the  metaphor  implies.  Every 
simile  can,  accordingly,  be  condensed  into  a  metaphor, 
and  every  metaphor  can  be  expanded  into  a  simile. 

Lear's  metaphor,  — 

"Ingratitude,  thou  marble-heaiied  fiend,"  ^  — 

if  changed  to  "Ingratitude,  tliou  fiend  (or,  tliou  who  art  like  a 
fienil)  with  heart  Itke  marble,"  becomes  a  simile.  The  simile  affirms 
a  resemblance  between  the  heart  and  marble;  the  metaphor  does 
nothing  more,  for  the  assertion  that  the  heart  is  marble  is  a  rhe- 
torical exaggeration  which  deceives  nobody. 
Tennyson's  metaphor,  — 

"  Yet  all  experience  is  an  arch  wherethro' 
Gleams  tliat  untravell'd  world,  whose  margin  fades 
For  ever  and  for  ever  when  I  move,"  -  — 

is  easily  changed  to  a  simile  that  says  the  same  thing  in  tamer 
language:  —  "Experience,  in  its  relation  to  the  unknown  fu- 
ture, is  like  an  arch  in  its  relation  to  the  yet  unvisited  world 
beyond  it." 

All  writers  agree  that,  other  things  being  equal,  the 
metaphor  is  more  forcible  than  the  simile;  but  opinions 
Reason forthe  differ  as  to  the  true  explanation  of  this  fact. 
meShori'to^  According  to  Whately,  who  adopts  the  idea 
fcimiiej.  from  Aristotle,  the  supariority  of  the  metaphor 

is  ascribable  to  the  fact  that  "  all  men  are  more  gratified 
at  catching  the  Eesemblance  for  themselves,  than  at  hav- 
ing it  pointed  out  to  them;"^  according  to  Mr.  Herbert 
Spencer,  "the  great  economy  it  achieves  will  seem  the 

1  Rhakspere :  King  Lear,  act  i.  scene  iv. 

8  Tennyson :  Ulysses. 

'  Whately :  Elements  of  Khetoric,  part  iii,  chap.  ii.  sect.  iii. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  119 

more  probable  cause :"  ^  but  neither  explanation  is  alto- 
gether satisfactory.  The  truth  seems  to  be  that  the  met- 
aphor, though  shorter  than  the  simile,  does  not  achieve  a 
"great  economy"  in  mental  effort.  It  usually  demands 
more  mental  effort,  but  it  enables  us  to  make  the  effort 
with  greater  ease.  We  are  "gratified,"  but  we  are  also 
stimulated. 

A  study  of  the  metaphors  in  the  following  passages  will 
show  that  they  could  not  be  changed  into  similes  with- 
out loss  of  force :  — 

"  The  fathers  have  eaten  sour  grapes,  and  the  children's  teeth 
are  set  on  edge."  ^ 

"A  fine  volley  of  words,  gentlemen,  and  quickly  shot  ofi."^ 
"She  speaks  poniards,  and  every  word  stabs."* 

"  To  wake  our  peace,  which  in  our  country's  cradle 
Draws  the  sweet  infant  breath  of  gentle  sleep."  ^ 

"  Dead  scandals  form  good  subjects  for  dissection."^ 

"In  civilized  society,  law  is  the  chimney  through  which  all  that 
smoke  discharges  itself  that  used  to  circulate  through  tne  whole 
house,  and  put  every  one's  eyes  out;  no  wonder,  therefore,  that 
the  vent  itself  should  sometimes  get  a  little  sooty."  "' 

"  The  academical  establishments  of  some  parts  of  Europe  are 
not  without  their  u.se  to  the  hi.storian  of  tiie  human  mind.  Im- 
movably moored  to  the  same  station  by  the  strength  of  their  cables 
and  the  weight  of  their  anchors,  they  enable  him  to  measure  the 
rapidity  of  the  current  by  which  the  rest  of  the  world  is  borne 
along."  8 

^  Spencer:  The  Philosophy  of  Style. 

2  lizekiel  xviii.  2. 

8  Shakspere  :  Tlie  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona,  act  i:.  scene  iv. 

*  Ibid.  :  Much  Ado  About  Notln'ng,  act  ii.  scene  i. 
^  Ibid.  :  Ricliard  II.,  act  i.  scene  i'i. 

®  Byron  .  Don  Juan,  canto  i   stanza  xxxi. 
'  Scott:  Guy  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap.  x. 

*  Dugald  Stewart.  Quoted  in  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  November,  1883, 
p.  686  (note). 


120  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"  < T  like  to  see  your  leady-smiling  Messeii  caught  in  a  sudden 
wind  and  obliged  to  show  their  lining  in  spite  of  tiiemselves.'  "* 

"  Were  1  to  adopt  a  pet  idea,  as  so  many  people  do,  and  fondle 
it  in  my  embraces  to  the  exclusion  of  all  others,  it  would  be,  that 
the  great  want  which  mankind  labors  under,  at  this  present  period, 
is  —  Sleep  1 "  ^ 

"  The  hidden  depths  and  unsuspected  shallows  were  exactly 
what  he  loved  her  for  :  no  one  ever  fell  in  love  with  a  canal."  ^ 

'•'  If,  as  poets  are  wont  to  whine,  tlie  outward  world  W'as  cold  to 
him,  its  biting  air  did  but  trace  itself  in  loveliest  frost-work  of 
fancy  on  the  many  windows  of  that  self-centred  and  cheerful  soul."  * 

"Pie  began  his  dramatic  career,  as  usual,  by  rowing  against  the 
strong  current  of  his  nature,  and  pulled  only  the  more  doggedly 
the  more  he  felt  himself  swept  down  the  stream."  ^ 

'"It  will  be  a  bitter  pill  to  lier  :  that  is,  like  other  bitter  pills,  it 
will  have  two  moments'  ill-flavour,  and  then  be  swallowed  and 
forgotten.' "  « 

Whenever  the  resemblance  between  the  things  coni- 
.     ,.^    pared    would   not   be    perfectly    clear   if    ex- 

Cases  in  which     c  l  ^ 

"™firlwe%o     pressed  in  the  metaphorical  form,  the  simile 
metaphors.        jg   ^q   j^g   preferred    to    the   metaphor.     For 

example :  — 

"  He  look'd  upon  them  all. 
And  in  each  face  lie  saw  a  gleam  of  light, 
But  splendider  in  Saturn's,  whose  hoar  locks 
Shone  like  the  bubbling  foam  about  a  keel 
When  the  prow  sweeps  into  a  midnight  cove."  ' 

"  I  fear  thee,  ancient  Mariner  ! 
I  fear  thy  skinny  liand  ! 
And  thou  art  long,  and  lank,  and  brown. 
As  is  the  ribbed  sea-sand."  ^ 

1  George  Eliot-.  Romola,  vol.  i.  chap  xxix. 

2  Hawthorne  :  Mosses  from  an  Old  Manse ;  The  Old  Manse. 

*  E.  F.  Benson  :  Dodo,  cliap.  ii. 

*  Lowell :  Literary  Essays  ;  Shakespeare  Once  More. 

*  Ibid.  ;  Dryden.  •>  Miss  Austen:  Mansfield  Park,  vol.  ii.  chap.  VI 
'  John  Keats:  Hyperion,  book  ii. 

*  Coleridge ;  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  part  iv. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  121 

"For  she  was  jes'  the  quiet  kind 
Whose  uaturs  uever  vary, 
Like  streams  that  keep  a  summer  mind 
Suow-hid  iii  Jeuooary."  ' 

"A  fine  lady  is  a  squirrel-headed  thing,  with  small  airs,  aiid 
small  nrtions,  about  as  applicable  to  the  business  of  life  as  a  pair 
of  tweezers  to  the  clearing  of  a  forest."  ^ 

"  The  silence  became  so  perfect  that  the  tread  of  the  syndics  on 
the  broad  pavement,  and  the  rustle  of  their  black  silk  garments, 
could  be  heard,  like  rain  in  the  night.'' ^ 

"  '  My  child  is  welcome,  though  unlooked  for,'  said  she,  at  the 
time  presenting  her  cheek  as  if  it  were  a  cool  slate  for  visitors  to 
enrol  themselves  upon."* 

"A  dumpy,  fat  little  steamer  rolled  itself  along  like  a  sailor  on 
shore."  ^ 

"And  it  [Idealism]  refuses  to  listen  to  the  jargon  cf  more  recent 
days  about  the  'Absolute*  and  all  the  other  hypostatised  adjectives, 
the  initial  letters  of  the  names  of  which  are  generally  printed  in 
capital  letters;  just  as  you  give  a  Grenadier  a  bearskin  cap,  to 
make  him  look  more  formidable  than  he  is  by  nature."* 

Jn  these  Instances,  there  is  little  room  for  difference  of  opinion. 
Not  so  with  an  example  given  by  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  first  in  the 
form  of  a  simile,  secondly  in  that  of  a  metaphor :  — 

"As,  in  passing  through  the  crystal,  beams  of  white  light  are 
decomposed  into  the  colours  of  the  rainbow,  so,  in  traversing  the 
soul  of  the  poet,  the  colourless  rays  of  truth  are  transformed  into 
brightly-tinted  poetry. 

"The  white  light  of  truth,  in  traversing  the  many-sided  trans- 
parent soul  of  the  poet,  is  refracted  into  iris-hued  poetry." ' 

In  this  case,  Mr.  Spencer  prefers  the  metaphor  to  the  simile  ;  and 
this  preference  would  be  justified  in  a  discourse  addressed  to  schol- 

*  Lowell:  The  Biglow  Papers;  The  Courtia'. 
'  George  VAlot.   Felix  Holt,  vol.  L  chap.  v. 

'  Ibid.:   l?omola,  vol.  i.  chap  xxix. 

4  Dickeus:   Our  Miitunl  Friend,  hook  iii.  chap.  xvi. 

*  Richard  Harding  Davis;  The  Exiles,  chap.  i. 

6  Trionias  n  llnxlcy:  Method  and  Results ;  On  Descartes' "  Discoune 
on  Methcid  " 

*  Spencer :   The  Philosophy  of  Style. 

ti 


122  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

ars.  In  a  popular  lecture,  however,  the  simile  would  be  preferable ; 
for  persons  not  conversant  with  the  phenomena  of  refraction  would 
fail  to  grasp  tiie  idea  unless  the  comparison  were  drawn  out  at 
length. 

Burke  has  a  similar  figure,  which  is  clearer  than  Mr.  Spencer's 
metaphor  and  more  forcible  than  his  simile:  — 

"  These  metaphysic  rights  entering  into  common  life,  like  rays 
of  light  which  pierce  into  a  dense  medium,  are,  by  the  laws  of 
nature,  refracted  from  their  straiglit  line.  Indeed  in  the  gross  and 
complicated  mass  of  human  passions  and  concerns,  the  primitive 
rights  of  men  undergo  such  a  variety  of  refractions  and  reflections 
that  it  becomes  absurd  to  talk  of  them  as  if  they  continued  in  the 
simplicity  of  their  original  direction."  i 

It  is  often  advantageous  to  use  the  simile  until  the 
meaning  is   plain,  and  then  to  adopt  the  metaphorical 
The  two  forms  ioYm.     This  is  done  by  Burke  in  the  sentence 
last  cited.     Other  instances  are:  — 

"  Some  minds  are  wonderful  for  keeping  their  bloom  in  this  way, 
as  a  patriarchal  gold-fish  ajiparently  retains  to  the  last  its  youthful 
illusion  that  it  can  swim  in  a  straight  line  beyond  the  encircling 
glass.  ]\Irs.  Tnlliver  was  an  amiable  fish  of  this  kind;  and,  after 
running  her  head  against  the  same  resisting  medium  for  thirteen 
years,  would  go  at  it  again  to-day  with  undulled  alacrity."  * 

"  The  One  remains,  the  many  change  and  pass ; 

Heaven's  light  for  ever  shines,  Earth's  shadows  fly; 
Life,  like  a  dome  of  many-coloured  glass, 
Stains  the  white  radiance  of  Eternity, 
Until  Death  tramples  it  to  fragments."  ^ 

"Sullen  and  silent,  and  like  couchant  lions. 
Their  cannon,  through  the  night, 
Holding  their  breath,  had  watched,  in  grim  defiance, 
The  sea-coast  opposite."  * 

In  such  combinations,  the  simile  prepares  the  mind  foi 

1  Burke:  Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  France. 

*  George  Eliot:  The  Mill  on  the  Floss,  book  i.  chap,  viii 

*  Shelley:  Adonais,  lii. 

*  Longfellow:  The  Warden  of  the  Cinque  Ports. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  123 

the  metaphor ;  the  simile  gives  clearness  to  the  figure,  the 
metaphor  force. 

There  are  cases  in  which  it  is  advantageous  to  put  the 
simile  after  the  metaphor,  because  tlie  simile  individual- 
izes and  empliasizes  the  idea  in  the  metaphor  and  is 
therefore  more  forcible.     For  example :  — 

"  Then,  indeed,  he  would  glare  upon  us  from  the  thick  shrui> 
bery  of  his  meditations  like  a  tiger  out  of  a  jungle."^ 

"  Under  its  loosened  vest 
Fluttered  her  little  breast, 
Liike  birds  within  their  nest 
By  the  hawk  frighted."  ■^ 

"So  far  her  voice  flow'd  on,  like  timorous  brook 

That,  lingering  along  a  pebbled  coast. 

Doth  fear  to  meet  the  sea."  ^ 
"Then  did  their  loss  his  foemen  know; 

Their  King,  their  Lords,  their  mightiest  low, 

They  melted  from  tlie  field,  as  snow, 

"When  streams  are  swohi  and  south  winds  blow, 

Dissolves  in  silent  dew."* 

According  to  Whately,  the  simile  in  the  lines  last  quoted  serves 
to  explain  the  metaphor  in  "  melted  ;  "  but  is  this  so  V  The  word 
"  melted,"  far  from  being  obscure,  suggests  the  idea  of  snow  to  any 
one  who  is  accustomed  to  see  snow  melt  from  a  field;  the  simile 
adds  force  by  extending  the  comparison  from  snow  that  melts  to 
snow  that  melts  rapidly. 

Sometimes  a  metaphor  embodied  in  a  single  word  ia 
more  su^cjestive  than  it  would  be  if  developed  condensed 

'  "  metaphors. 

at  length.     For  example :  — 

"The  streets  are  dumb  with  snow."* 
"  At  one  stride  comes  the  dark."  * 

1  Hawthorne :  The  Blithedale  Komance,  chap.  T. 

2  Longfellow:  The  Skeleton  in  Armor. 
8  Keats:    Hyperion,  hook  ii. 

«  Scott:   Marmion,  canto  vi  stanza  xxxiv.     ^  Tennj'son  :  Sir  Galahad 
•  Coleridge:  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  part  iii. 


124     .  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"The  moonlight  steeped  in  sileutness 
The  steady  weathercock."  i 

"His  very  presence  stunts  conversation,"' 

Sometimes  it  is  advantageous  to  keep  a  figure  before 
Bustained  ^hs  reader  for  a  considerable  length  of  time, 
metaphors.       For  example  I  — 

"No  solemn,  antique  gentleman  of  rhj-me, 
Wlio  having  angled  all  his  life  for  fame. 
And  getting  hut  a  nihble  at  a  time, 
Still  fussily  keeps  fishing  ou."^ 

**  It  is  all  a  black  sea  round  about  me  on  every  side.  T  have  only 
one  thing  to  cling  to,  only  one  thing,  and  how  can  I  tell?  perhaps 
that  may  tail  me  too.  But  you  have  nothing  to  cry  for.  Your  way 
is  all  clear  and  straight  before  you  till  it  ends  in  heaven.  Let  them 
talk  as  they  like,  there  must  be  heaven  for  you.  You  will  sit  there 
and  wait  and  watch  to  see  all  the  broken  boats  come  home,  —  some 
bottom  upwards,  and  every  one*  drowned;  some*  lashed  to  one 
miserable  bit  of  a  mast —  like  me."* 

"Monday  17th  October,  came  the  Baireuth  Visitors:  Wilhel- 
mina  all  in  a  flutter,  and  tremor  of  joy  and  sorrow,  to  see  her 
Brother  again,  her  old  kindred  and  the  altered  scene  of  things. 
Poor  Lady,  she  is  perceptibly  more  tremulous  than  usual:  and  her 
Narrative,  not  in  dates  only,  but  in  more  memorable  points,  dances 
about  at  a  sad  rate ;  interior  agitations  and  tremulous  shrill  feel- 
ings shivering  her  this  way  and  that,  and  throwing  things  topsy- 
turvy in  one's  recollection.  Like  the  magnetic  needle,  shaky  but 
stediast  (ngitee  main  conxtanle).  Truer  nothing  can  be,  points  for- 
ever to  the  Pole;  but  also  what  obliquities  it  makes;  will  shiver 
aside  in  mad  escapades,  if  you  hold  the  paltriest  bit  of  old  iron 
near  it,  —  paltriest  clack  of  gossip  about  this  loved  Brother  of  mine  I 
Brother,  we  will  hope,  silently  continues  to  be  Pole,  so  that  the 
needle  always  comes  back  again  ;  otherwise  all  would  go  to  wreck."' 

1  Coleridge:  The  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  part  vi. 
^  Student's  theme.  s  Byron:  Beppo,  stanza  l\y.m 

*  See  page  84. 

-  Mrs.  Oliphant:  The  Ladies  Lindores,  vol.  iii,  chap.  xv.      Tauchniti 
edition. 

6  Carlyle  •  History  of  Frederick  the  Great,  book  xi.  chap.  vii. 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  125 

«  And  indeed  the  ]\Ir.  Gilfil  of  those  h\te  Shepperton  days  had 
more  of  the  knots  and  ruggedn esses  of  poor  human  nature  than 
there  lay  any  clear  hint  of  in  the  open-eyed  loving  Maynard.  But 
it  is  with  men  as  with  trees :  if  you  lop  off  their  finest  branches, 
into  which  they  were  pouring  their  young  life-juice,  the  wounds 
will  be  healed  over  with  some  rough  boss,  some  odd  excrescence; 
and  what  might  have  been  a  grand  tree  expanding  into  liberal 
shade,  is  but  a  whimsical  misshapen  trunk.  Many  an  irritating 
fault,  many  an  unlovely  oddity,  has  come  of  a  hard  sorrow,  which 
has  crushed  and  maimed  the  nature  just  when  it  was  expanding 
into  plenteous  beauty;  and  the  trivial  erring  life  which  we  visit 
•with  our  harsh  blame,  may  be  but  as  the  unsteady  motion  of  a  man 
■whose  best  limb  is  withered. 

"  And  so  the  dear  old  Vicar,  though  he  had  something  of  the 
knotted  whimsical  character  of  the  poor  lopped  oak,  had  yet  been 
sketched  out  by  nature  as  a  noble  tree.  The  heart  of  him  was 
sound,  the  grain  was  of  the  finest;  ^,nd  in  the  gray-haired  man  who 
filled  his  pockets  with  sugar-plums  for  the  little  children,  whose 
most  biting  words  were  directed  against  the  evil  doing  of  the  rich 
man,  and  who,  with  all  his  social  pipes  and  slipshod  talk,  never 
sank  below  the  highest  level  of  his  parishioners'  respect,  there  was 
the  main  trunk  of  the  same  brave,  faithful,  tender  nature  that  had 
poured  out  the  finest,  freshest  forces  of  its  life-current  m  a  first  and 
only  love  —  the  love  of  Tina.'*  * 

In  a  complex  or  elaborate  figure  of  speech,  the  danger 
is  that  the  thing  illustrated  may  be  forgotten  in  the  illus- 
tration, that  which  should  be  subordinate  be-  Danger  in  sua- 

,  ■       •       1       ^         ^       e       LL       L'  A     tained  figures. 

commg  the  principal  object  of  attention.  A 
figure  of  this  kind,  instead  of  illuminating  the  path  of 
thought,  is  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  which  may  lead  the  reader 
into  a  bog.  Such  are  many  of  the  conceits  of  Cowley, 
the  allegories  once  popular,  all  exercises  of  intellectual 
ingenuity  that  resemble  conundrums  or  enigmas.  Writ- 
ing of  this  kind  is  well  described  as  "frigid;"  it  counter- 
feits the  warmth  and  glow  of  poetry,  but  leaves  those 

1  George  Eliot;  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-Story;  Epilogue^ 


126  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

whom  it  deceives   the   colder  for  their  disappointment, 
lor  example:  — 

"  Man  is  a  harp,  whose  chords  elude  the  sight, 
Each  yieldiiij,'  harmony  dispose:!  aright; 
The  screws  reversed  (a  task  which,  if  he  please, 
God  in  a  moment  executes  witii  ease), 
Ten  thousand  thousand  strings  at  once  go  loose, 
Lost,  till  he  tune  them,  all  their  power  and  use."l 

"  The  truth  is  that  Macaiilay  was  not  only  accustomed,  like 
many  more  of  us,  to  go  out  hobby-riding,  but,  from  the  portentous 
vigour  of  the  animal  he  mounted,  was  liable,  more  than  most  of  us, 
to  be  run  away  with.  His  merit  is,  that  he  could  keep  his  seat  in 
such  a  steeple-chase :  but  as  the  object  in  view  is  arbitrarily  chosen, 
so  it  is  reached  by  cutting  up  the  fields,  spoiling  the  crops,  and 
spoiling  or  breaking  down  the  fences,  needful  to  secure  to  labour  its 
profit,  and  to  man  at  large  the  full  enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of  the 
earth."  2 

The  former  of  these  examples  is  frigidity  itself;  the  objection  to 
the  latter  lies  in  the  difficulty  of  giving  equal  attention  throughout 
to  both  sides  of  the  comparison.  The  reader  is  in  danger  of  for- 
getting Macaulay  in  the  excitement  of  the  chase. 

Figures  suggestive  of  incompatible  ideas  should  not  be 
brought  close  together.  The  more  forcible  such  figures 
Mixed  ^^6'  ^^^^  ^y  itself,  the  stronger  the  objection 

metaphors.       ^.q  g^^-^  attempt  to  combiuc  them.     The  follow- 
ing sentences  contain  incongruous  figures :  — 

«  Seventy-five  professors  have  catered  to  the  demands  of  these 
young  women  now  pushing  toward  the  goals  of  higher  education."  ^ 

"  We  see  now  that  old  war-horse  of  the  Democracy  waving  his 
hand  from  the  deck  of  the  sinking  ship."* 

" '  Horrible  ! '  said  the  Lady  Amelia  ;  '  diluting  the  best  blood  of 
the  country,  and  paving  the  way  for  revolutions.'"* 

1  William  Cowper:  Retirement. 

2  William  E.  Gladstone:  Lord  Macaulay.  The  Quarterly  Review; 
July,  1876,  p.  3L 

8  American  newspaper. 

*  Anthony  Trollops:  Doctor  Thorne,chap.  vL 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  127 

"He  was  biding  his  time,  and  patiently  looking  forward  to  the 
days  when  he  himself  would  i  sit  authoritative  at  some  board,  and 
talk  and  direct,  and  rule  the  roast,  while  lesser  stars  sat  round  and 
obeyed,  as  he  had  so  well  accustomed  himself  to  do."^ 

..."  there  was,  nevertheless,  an  under  stratum  of  iov  in  all  this 
which  buoyed  her  up  wondiously."  3 

"  The  chariot  of  Revolution  is  rolling,  and  gnashing  its  teeth  as 
it  rolls."  * 

"The  bulk  ^  of  the  original  troops  were  very  reluctant  philan- 
thropists, and  had  to  be  vigorously  weeded  and  sifted,  so  that  the 
toughest  work  was  performed  by  a  handful  of  seasoned  and  tested 
men."« 

"  If  no  authority,  not  in  its  nature  temporary,  were  allowed  to 
one  human  being  over  another,  society  would  not  be  employed  in 
building  up  propensities  with  one  hand  which  it  has  to  curb  with 
the  other."  7 

"  Yet  exactly  upon  this  level  is  the  ordinary  state  of  musical 
feeling  throughout  Great  Britain  ;  and  the  howling  wilderness  ot 
the  psalmody  in  most  parish  churches  of  the  land,  countersigns  the 
statement."  ^ 

..."  the  other  shall  have  used  every  tittle  of  the  same  matter 
without  eliciting  one  scintillation  of  sympathy,  without  leaving 
behind  one  distinct  impression  in  the  memory,  or  planting  one 
murmur  in  the  heart."  ^ 

A  similar  fault  is  that  of  joining  literal  with   Literal  with 

.  figurative 

metaphorical  expressions.     For  example  :  —        language. 

"  Boyle  was  the  father  of  chemistry  and  brother  to  the  Earl  of 
Cork." 

"  It  is  an  emotional  wave  that  lacks  organization,"  ^ 

^  See  pages  63,  64. 

2  Anthouy  Trollope:  Barchester  Towers,  vol.  i.  chap.  iii.  Tauchnitz 
edition. 

2  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xviii. 

*  Transcribed  from  the  report  of  a  f^peech  by  a  German  Socialist,  The 
Nineteenth  Century,  March,  1881,  p.  424. 

*  Query  as  to  this  use  of  bulk. 
^  American  newspaper. 

'  J.  S.  Mill :  The  Subjection  of  Women,  chap.  iv. 

8  De  Quincey  :  Essay  on  Style,  9  Student's  theme. 


128  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"Such  are  the  oratorical  tendencies  of  the  age ;  such  the  foun- 
dation stones  on  wiiicli  they  rest."  ' 

'•'  When  entering  the  twilight  of  dotage,  reader,  I  mean  to  have 
a  printing-press  in  my  own  study."  ^ 

"  It  is  not  likely,  therefore,  that  the  Republican  Convention  will 
declare  strongly  against  the  South.  They  will,  of  course,  tluow  a 
tub  to  the  whale  in  that  respect  in  some  general  phrases."  ^ 

Among  the  most  forcible  tropes  is  that  which  attrib- 
utes life  to  the  lifeless,  or  a  life  to  the  living  different 
personifica-  ^ ^0^  its  own,  —  as,  "  the  raging  torrent,"  "  the 
tion.  flgj.y    steed,"    "leaps    the    live  thunder,"^    "a 

bleak   northeasterly  expression."^     This  figure  is  called 

PERSONIFICATION. 

Properly  used,  personification  stimulates  the  imagi- 
nation :  — 

"  This  music  crept  by  me  upon  the  waters."  ® 

"  Ou  his  crest 
Sat  Horror  plumed."^ 

"Verse,  a  I)reeze  mid  blossoms  straying, 
Where  Hope  clung  feeding,  like  a  hee  — 
Both  were  mine !     Life  went  a  maying 
With  Nature,  Hope,  and  Poesy, 
When  I  was  young  !  "  ^ 

"And  Winter,  slumbering  in  the  open  air, 

Wears  on  his  smiling  face  a  dream  of  Spring  i'-' 
"Armour  rusting  in  liis  halls 

On  the  blood  of  Clifford  calls  ;  — 

'  Quell  the  Scot,'  exclaims  the  Lance  — 

Bear  me  to  the  heart  of  France, 

Is  the  longing  of  tlie  Shield  — 

Tell  thy  name,  thou  trembling  Field  ; 

1  Student's  theme.  ^  Y)e  Quincey ;  Essay  ou  Secret  Societies, 

'  American  periodical. 

*  Byron  :  Cliilde  Harold's  Pilgrimage. 
6  George  F,liut :  Felix  Holt. 

*  Shakspere  :  The  Tempest,  act.  i.  scene  ii. 
'  Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  book  iv.  line  989. 

8  Coleridge:  Youth  and  Age.  *•  Ibid. :  Work  without  Hope. 


CHOICE  OF    WORDS.  129 

Field  of  death,  where'er  thou  be, 
Groau  thou  with  our  victory  !  "  ^ 

"I  have  been  familiar  from  boyhood  with  mountains  and  lakes 
and  the  sea,  and  the  solitude  of  forests  :  Danger,  which  sports 
upon  the  brink  of  precipices,  has  been  my  playmate."  '^ 

"For  Winter  came:  tlie  wind  was  his  whip: 
Oue  ciioppy  fiuger  was  or.  his  lip  . 
He  had  toru  the  cataracts  from  tlie  hills 
Aud  they  clauked  at  his  girdle  like  manacles."' 

"  Mammon's  trusty  cur. 
Clad  in  rich  Dulness'  comfortable  fur, 
In  uaked  feeliug,  and  iu  aching  pride."  * 

"Against  no  matter  whose  the  liberty 
Aud  life,  so  long  as  self-conceit  should  crow 
And  clap  the  wing,  while  justice  sheathed  her  claw."* 

"The  pretension  is  not  to  drive  Reason  from  the  helm  but 
rather  to  bind  her  by  articles  to  steer  only  in  a  particular  way."  ® 

"Genius  is  always  impatient  of  its  harness;  its  wild  blood 
makes  it  hard  to  train." ' 

Improperly  used,  personification  is  a  form  of  fine  writ- 
ing.^ It  is  dangerously  easy  in  languages,  like  the 
English,  in  which  a  writer  may  attribute  per- j^^^^^^^  j^  p^^. 
sonality  to  an  inanimate  object  by  means  of  a  sonmcation. 
masculine  or  a  feminine  pronoun,  or  by  "the  easy  magic 
of  an  initial  capital." 

"  Equally  annoying,"  writes  Mr.  Leslie  Stephen,  "  was  Gray's 
immense  delight  in  semi-allegorical  figures.  We  have  whole  cata- 
logues of  abstract  qualities  scarcely  personified.  Ambition,  bit- 
ter Scorn,  grinning  Infamy,  Falsehood,  hard  Unkindness,  keen 
Remorse,  and  moody  Madness  are  all  collected  in  one  stanza  not 

1  Wordsworth  :  Song  at  the  Feast  of  Brougham  Castle. 

2  Slielley  :  The  Revolt  of  Islam  ;  Preface. 

«  Ibid.:  Tiie  Sensitive  Plant.  *  Burns:  To  Robert- Graham. 

6  Browning :  Prince  Hohenstiel-Schwangau.  ^  j_  s.  Mill     Nature. 

t  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  :  The  Professor  at  the  Breakfast  Table,  X. 
*  See  pages  102-105. 


130  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

exceptional  in  style  —  beings  which  to  us  are  almost  as  offensive 
as  the  muse  whom  he  has  pretty  well  ceased  to  invoke,  though 
he  still  appeals  to  his  lyre.  This  fashion  reached  its  culminating 
point  in  the  celebrated  invocation,  somewhere  recorded  by  Cole- 
ridge, 'Inoculation,  heavenly  maid!'  The  personified  qualities 
are  a  kind  of  fading  'survival'  —  ghosts  of  the  old  allegorical 
persons  who  put  on  a  rather  more  solid  clothing  of  flesh  and  blood 
with  Spenser,  and  with  Gray  scarcely  putting  i  in  a  stronger  claim 
to  vitality  than  is  implied  in  the  use  of  capital  letters."  ^ 

"  Gray's  personifications,"  says  Coleridge,  "  were  mere  printer's 
devils'  personifications,"  8  —  a  remark  true  of  some  personifications 
of  other  poets.     For  example  :  — 

"  So  may  no  ruffian-feehng  in  tliy  breast 

Discordant  jar  thy  bosom-chords  among  I 
But  Peace  attune  thy  gentle  soul  to  rest. 
Or  Love,  ecstatic,  wake  his  seraph  song! 

*'0r  Pity's  notes,  in  luxury  of  tears. 

As  modest  Want  the  tale  of  woe  reveals; 
While  conscious  Virtue  all  the  strain  endears, 
And  heaven-born  Piety  her  sanction  seals  ! "  * 

Excessive  personification  of   abstractions,  as  in  these 

lines  from  Burns,  is  especially  objectionable.     On  this 

point  George  Eliot  speaks  strongly :  — 

"  The  adherence  to  abstractions,  or  to  the  personification  of 
abstractions,  is  closely  allied  in  Young  to  the  tmnl.  of  genuine 
einollon.  He  sees  Virtue  sitting  on  a  mount  serene,  far  above  the 
mists  and  storms  of  earth  :  he  sees  Religion  coming  down  from 
the  skies,  with  this  world  in  her  left  hand  and  the  other  world  in 
her  right:  but  we  never  find  him  dwelling  on  virtue  or  religion  as 
it  really  exists  —  in  the  emotions  of  a  man  dressed  in  an  ordinary 
coat,  and  seated  by  his  fireside  of  an  evening,  with  his  hand  rest- 
ing on  the  head  of  his  little  daughter;  in  courageous  effort  for 
unselfish  ends,  in  the  internal  triumph  of  justice  and  pity  over 

1  Query  as  to  this  construction. 

2  Leslie  iStephen:  Gray  and  his  School.  The  Cornhill  Magazine,  July, 
1879,  p.  82. 

3  Coleridge:  Table  Talk. 

*  Burns:   To  i\Iiss  Graham. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  131 

personal  resentment,  in  all  the  sublime  self-renunciation  and  sweet 
charities  which  are  found  in  the  details  of  ordinary  life.  Now, 
emotion  links  itself  with  particulars,  and  only  in  a  faint  and  sec- 
ondary manner  with  abstractions.  An  orator  may  discourse  very 
eloquently  on  injustice  in  general,  and  leave  his  audience  cold; 
but  let  him  state  a  special  case  of  oppression,  and  every  heart  will 
throb.  The  most  untheoretic  persons  are  aware  of  this  relation 
between  true  emotion  and  particular  facts,  as  opposed  to  general 
terms,  and  implicitly  recognize  it  in  the  repulsion  they  feel  towards 
any  one  who  professes  strong  feeling  about  abstractions,  —  in  the 
interjectional  '  humbug  I '  which  immediately  rises  to  their  lips."  ^ 

Tropes  are  sometimes  used  for  purposes  of  ornament; 
but  it  may  be  doubted  whether,  in  prose  at  least,  they 
ever  adorn  a  composition  unless  they  also  ren-  vaiue  and  uses 
der  it  either  clearer  or  more  effective.  When-  °  '^°^^^' 
ever  they  explain,  enliven,  or  enforce  the  thought,  they 
are  properly  employed.  Their  power  may  be  traced 
to  the  superiority  of  the  unfamiliar  to  the  trite,  of 
the  things  of  the  imagination  to  those  of  the  under- 
standing. 

"  The  symbol,"  says  Emerson,  "  plays  a  large  part  in  our  speech. 
TYe  could  not  do  without  it.  Few  can  either  give  or  receive  unre- 
lieved thought  in  conversation.  A  symbol  or  trope  lightens  it. 
We  remember  a  happy  comparison  all  our  lives."  ^ 

A  trope  should  naturally  grow  out  of  the  subject  and 
be  in  harmony  with  the  purpose  and  tone  of  the  com- 
position ;  it  should  be  as  brief  as  is  compatible  with 
clearness,  and  fresh  enough  to  give  the  reader  a  pleasant 
surprise,  but  not  so  strange  as  to  shock  him. 

Forcible  as  figurative  language  is  in  the  hands  of  a 
master,  it  may  be  less  forcible  than  plain  prose  "  hewn 

1  George  Eliot :  Essays ;  Worldliness  and  Other- Worldliuess,  The 
Poet  Young. 

2  Quoted  in  "  Mr.  Emerson  in  the  Lecture  Room."  The  Atlantic 
Monthly,  Jane,  1883,  p.  822. 


132  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

from  life."  "Nothing  but  great  weight  in  things  can 
afford  a  quite  literal  speech;"^  but  literal  speech  so 
weighted  is  irresistible.  Heuce  the  power  of  Demos- 
thenes among  the  ancients,  of  Swift  and  Daniel  Webster 
among  the  moderns. 


SECTION  IIL 

EASE. 

Besides  clearness  (that  which  renders  language  intel- 
ligible to  the  reader)  and  force  (that  which  renders  it 
Meaning  and  imprcssive  in  one  way  or  another),  there  is  a 
value 01  ease,  ^j^-^,^  quality  Bsscntial  to  the  best  writing,— 
the  quality  which  makes  language  agreeable.  This  qual- 
ity has  been  called  by  different  names,  —  euplwny,  heautij, 
harmony,  smoothness,  grace,  elegance,  ease.  No  one  of 
these  words  covers  the  whole  ground,  but  ease  covers 
more  than  any  of  the  others.  In  books  characterized  by 
ea^e  there  is  nothin<f  that  irritates  or  distracts,  and  there 
is  much  that  pleases.  The  reader  goes  from  well-chosen 
word  to  well-chosen  word  without  a  jar  and  with  an 
agreeable  sense  that  he  is  getting  on. 

"It  will,"  says  Trollope,  "be  granted,  I  think,  by  readers,  that 
a  style  may  be  rough,  and  yet  both  forcible  and  intelligible;  but 
it  will  seldom  come  to  pass  that  a  novel  written  in  a  rough  style 
will  be  popular  —  and  less  often  that  a  novelist  who  habitually 
uses  such  a  style  will  become  so.  The  harmony  which  is  required 
must  come  from  the  practice  of  the  ear.  There  are  few  ears  natu- 
rally so  dull  that  they  cannot,  if  time  be  allowed  to  them,  decide 
whether  a  sentence,  when  read,  be  or  be  not  harmonious.  And  the 
sense  ot  such  harmony  grows  on  the  ear,  when  the  intelligence  has 
once  informed  itself  as  to  what  is,  and  what  is  not,  harmonious.  .  . . 

1  Emerson  :  Letters  and  Social  Aims ;  Poetry  and  Imagination. 


CHOICE  OF   WORDS.  133 

In  order  that  familiarity  may  serve  him  [a  writer]  in  his  business, 
he  must  so  train  his  ear  that  he  shall  be  able  to  weigh  the  rhythm 
of  every  word  as  it  falls  from  his  pen.  This,  when  it  has  been 
done  for  a  time,  even  for  a  short  time,  will  become  so  habitual  to 
him  that  he  will  have  appreciated  the  metrical  duration  of  every 
syllable  before  it  shall  have  dared  to  show  itself  upon  paper."'  ^ 

The  negative  merits  of  which  Trollope  speaks  are  within 
the  reach  of  every  writer  who  will  take  the  requisite 
pains.  It  is  possible  for  every  one  to  train  How  far  ease 
his  ear  by  familiarizing  himseli  with  authors  quired, 
distinguished  for  ease.  It  is  possible  for  every  one  to 
detect  ill-sounding  words  and  combinations  of  words  in 
what  he  has  written  by  reading  it  aloud  or,  still  better, 
having  it  read  aloud  to  him  by  a  friend. 

To  avoid  harsh  or  clumsy  expressions  is  comparatively 
easy;  but  to  acquire  the  positive  excellences  that  con- 
tribute to  ease  in  style  is  very  difficult.  These  excel- 
lences few,  even  among  famous  authors,  possess  in  full 
measure  or  have  always  at  command.  They  are  unattain- 
able by  any  one  who  does  not  possess  those  qualities  of 
character  out  of  which  they  spring ;  for  case  in  its  highest 
form  is  a  gift  rather  than  an  acquisition,  the  gift  of  an 
engaging  personality.  It  is,  however,  a  gift  that  may 
be  developed;  even  Steele  and  Addison,  Goldsmith  and 
Irving,  Newman  and  Thackeray  did  not  attain  perfect 
ease  without  patient  and  persistent  labor. 

"  Goldsmith  put  an  anxious  finish  into  all  his  better  work ;  per- 
haps that  is  the  secret  of  the  graceful  ease  that  is  now  apparent  in 
every  line.  Any  young  writer  who  may  imagine  that  the  power 
of  clear  and  concise  literary  expression  comes  by  nature,  cannot  do 
better  than  study,  in  I\Ir.  Cunningham's  big  collection  of  Gold- 
smith's writings,  the  continual  and  minute  alterations  which  the 
author  considered  necessary  even  after  the  first  edition  —  some- 

1  Anthony  Trollope:  An  Autobiography,  chap.  xiL 


134  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

times   wheni   the   second   and   third  editions  —  had- been  pub- 
hshed."  2 

Not  that  a  young  author  should  say  to  himself,  "Go 
to !  I  will  make  myself  the  Goldsmith  of  the  twentieth 
Dangers  of  a  ceutuiy ! "  A  couscious  Struggle  for  ease  is 
s°rlfgg°rfor  often  fatal  to  the  desired  result,  or  is  success- 
ful at  the  cost  of  things  vastly  more  important. 
In  the  former  case,  the  writer's  manifest  effort  interferes 
with  the  comfort  of  his  readers ;  in  the  latter  case, 
clearness  or  force  is  sacrificed  to  smoothness,  sense  to 
sound. 

Words  difficult  to  pronounce  or  harsh  in  sound  are,  as 
„  has  already  been  said,^  obiectionable.     Other 

Harsh  sounds.  "^  ■' 

words  or  syllables  not  uneuphonious  by  them- 
selves become  so  if  repeated  too  often  or  if  coupled  with 
certain  other  sounds.     For  example  :  — 

"  The  subject  is  handled  tenderly,  lovingly,  even  as  all  the  essays 
are,  though  seemuifjli/  increasinghj  so  toward  the  end  of  their  list."* 

"It  is  a  7-emarhal)hj  lasfcfulhj  gotten  ^  up  monllihj  and  will  un- 
douhledhj  win  a  way  to  rapid  popularity."* 

..."  she  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile  at  his  being  now  seeking 
the  acquaintance  of  some  of  those  very  people."  ^ 

"I  added,  on  some  dry  questions  being  put  to  me  by  him,  rela- 
tive to  the  possibility  of  there  being  still  existing  an  heir  to  the 
estate,  ilial  there  was  no  chance  of  that."'' 

"  One  day  while  Dobbin  was  lying  reading  in  the  shade  of  a 
tree,  he  heard  a  boy  crying  as  if  in  pain,  and  upon  looking  up 
saw  Cuff  thrashing  a  younger  boy."  ^ 

^  Qncry  as  to  this  conjunction. 

2  William  Black  :  Life  of  Goldsmith,  chap.  viii.  English  Men  of  Let' 
ters  Series. 

2  See  p.ige  21 . 

*  American  periodical.  5  See  page  27. 

6  Miss  Austen:    Pride  and  Prejudice,  vol.  ii.  chap.  x. 

^  C'aptain  Marryat:  The  Children  of  the  New  Forest,  chap.  xxri. 

^  Student's  theme. 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  135 

"  One  always  feels  that  a  particularly  interesting  two  or  three 
hours  are  in  store  for  one  when  a  Haymarket  first  night  is  in  pros- 
pect. One  is  sure  to  see  everybody  one  knows  as  well  as  everybody 
one  would  like  to  know  and  does  n't,  and  that  is  always  entertaining 
while  the  curtain  is  down.  When  it  is  up,  even  if  one  does  n't 
altogether  admire  the  play,  one  is  certain  of  seeing  an  earnest, 
artistic  bit  of  work."  ^ 

"A  conclusion  which  one  rejects  for  one's  children  is  either  a 
conclusion  one  doubts,  or  a  conclusion  of  which  one  is  ashamed."  ^ 

" '  I  know  one  has  got  no  business  to  be  bored,  and  it  is  one's 
own  fault  as  a  rule  if  one  is,'  she  went  on."  3 

"On  the  board  between  Washington  and  Richmond  the  eyes  of 
the  world  were  fixed,  and  by  the  turns  of  the  balance  on  il  the 
chances  on  it  of  tlie  combatants  were  measured."  * 

"  The  ari-ay  moved  on  accordingly ;  the  sound  of  trumpets  and 
drums  again  rose  amid  the  acclamations,  which  had  been  silent 
while  the  King  stopped;  while^  the  effect  of  the  whole  procession 
resuming  its  motion,  was  so  splendidly  dazzling,  that  even  Alice's 
anxiety  about  her  father's  health  was  for  a  moment  suspended, 
luhile  her  eye  followed  the  long  line  of  varied  brilliancy  that  pro- 
ceeded over  the  heath."  ^ 

"  I  will  not  say  hut  that  she  knew  them  to  be  so,  hut  she  felt 
angry  with  them  and  brushed  them  roughly  and  carelessly."  ' 

"  'I'he  Romans  were  fortunate,"  says  Landor,  ..."  in  having 
60  many  words  to  express  but,  another  sad  stumbling-block  to  us. 
Our  language  is  much  deformed  by  the  necessity  of  its  recurrence; 
and  I  know  not  any  author  who  has  taken  great  pains  to  avoid  it 
■where  he  could."  ^ 

Considerations  of  euphony  have  prevented  the  adoption 
of  a  rule  insisted  upon  in  some  quarters,  —  the  rule  that 

1  Letter  from  Londou  to  an  American  newspaper. 

2  The  [Loudon]  Spectator,  Feb.  17,  1894,  p.  227. 

3  E.  F.  Benson :  Dodo,  chap.  vii. 

*  Goldwin  Smith:  'I he  United  States,  chap.  v. 

5  See  page  89.  ^  Scott:  Woodstock,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xx. 

■^  Anthony  Trollope :  Barcliestcr  Towers,  vol.  ii.  chap.  i.  Tauclmita 
edition.     For  another  example,  sec  jiage  88. 

*  Landor  :  Conversutions,  Ihird  Series;  Johnson  and  Home  (Tooke). 


136  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

who  or  ujliich  should  be  confined  to  cases  in  which  the 
relative  clause  explains  the  meaning  of  the  antecedent 
or  adds  something  to  it,  and  that  to  cases  in  which 
the  relative  clause  restricts  the  meaning  of  the  ante- 
cedent. This  rule,  however  helpful  to  clearness  it 
may  be  in  theory,  few  good  authors  observe.  Its  strict 
observance  would  lead  to  harsh  combinations  like  that 
condemned  by  Steele  in  "  The  humble  Petition  of  who 
and  WHICH:"  — 

"We  are  descended  of  ancient  families,  and  kept  up  our  dignity 
and  honour  many  years,  till  the  jack-sprat  THAT  supplanted  us. 
How  often  have  we  found  ourselves  slighted  by  the  clergy  in  their 
pulpits,  and  the  lawyers  at  the  bar?  Nay,  how  often  have  we 
heard,  in  one  of  the  most  polite  and  august  assemblies  in  the 
universe,  to  our  great  mortification, i  these  words,  'That  that  that 
noble  lord  urged; '  which  if  one  of  us  had  had  justice  done,  would 
have  sounded  nobler  thus,  '  that  which  that  noble  lord  urged.'  "  ^ 

Excessive  alliteration  is  one  of  the  worst  offences 
Alliteration  against  casc,  not  only  because  it  is  uneu- 
lu  excess.  phonious,  but  because  it  is  affected.  For 
example :  — 

"Red  buds  of  hnllnd  hlonsom,  where  the  dew 
Blushed  as  with  hloodlike  passion."  ^ 

"  Since  the  soncjs  of  Greece  fell  silent,  none  lii<e  ours  have  risen ; 
Since  the  sails  of  Greece  fell  slack,  no  ships  have  sailed  like  ours."* 

In  an  article  on  "  Farmers,  Fallacies,  and  Fiirroics,"  we  read  of 
"Jideliti/  to  the  furrows  —  material,  financial,  intellectual,  and 
economic  —  which  were  marked  out  by  their  virtuous  and  patriotic 
ancestry,  and  a  quick,  sharp  farewell  to  the  fallacies  of  Proledion 
and  Paternalism."  ^ 

In  an  article  on  "  Pmlectinn  and  the  Proletariat  "  we  read, 
"  And  the  proletariat  has  learned  of  the  protectionist.     And  putting 

1  Query  as  to  the  position  of  this  phrase.        ^  The  Spectator,  No.  78. 

'  Swinhunie:   Rirthdny  Ode. 

*  Ibid.:  Athens.  *  American  magazine. 


CHOICE   OF   WORDS.  137 

the  precevtx  of  protection  into  practice,  the  jirnletariat  petitions  for 
pecuniary  aid  iVoiii  the  Governiueut,  and  procluuus  for  paternalism 
by  the  American  Republic."  ^ 

When  a  word  in  one  sense  stands  near  the  same  word 
in  another  sense,  or  when  two  words  alike  in    »  „/^^^  j^ 
sound    stand    near    each    other,    there    is    an  ^^ose"^". 
offence  against  ease.     For  example :  — 

"  He  turned  to  the  left,  and  left  the  room."  ^ 

.  .  .  "every  morning  setting  a  worthy  example  to  his  men  by 
setting  fire,  with  his  own  monster-hands,  to  the  house  where  he  had 
slept  last  night."  ^ 

"  Society  is  infested  with  .  .  .  contradictors  and  railers  at  pub- 
lic and  private  tables,  who  are  like  terriers,  who  conceive  it  the 
duty  of  a  dog  of  hoiKir  to  growl  at  any  passer-by,  and  do  the  honors 
of  tlie  house  by  barking  him  out  of  sight."* 

This  species  of  inelegance  is  sometimes  resorted  to  as  a  humorous 
device : — 

"  Poor  Madame  Mantalini  wrung  her  hands  for  grief,  and  rung 
the  bell  for  her  husband ;  which  done,  she  fell  into  a  chair  and  a 
fainting  fit  simultaneously."  ^ 

Sometimes  the  substitution  of  one  word  for  another 
that  has  the  same  meaninsj  —  as  of  one  rela-  Two  words  m 

the  same 

tive  pronoun  for  another  that  has   the  same  sense, 
antecedent  —  is  an  offence  against  ease.    For  example :  — 

"  He  was  just  one  of  those  men  that  the  country  can't  afford  to 
lose,  and  rchom  it  is  so  very  hard  to  replace."  ^ 

"  He  was  hard-favoured,  with  .  .  .  an  eye  that  had  looked  upon 
death  as  his  playfellow  in  thirty  pitched  battles,  but  which  never- 

1  American  magazine. 

2  Student's  theme. 

8  Dickens:   A  Child'.s  Hi.story  of  England,  chap.  xiv. 
*  Emerson:   Conduct  of  Life;  Behavior. 
s  Dickens:  Nicholas  Nicklehv,  vol.  i.  cliap  xxJ. 

6  Anthony  Trollope:  The  American  Senator,  vol.  iii.  chap.  xi.  Tauch- 
nitz  edition. 


138  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

theless  expressed  a  calm  contempt  of  dpnger,  rather  than  the  fero- 
cious courage  of  a  mercenary  soldier."  i 

"  It  feels  like  donning-  knee-breeches  and  buckles,  to  read  tvJtat 
everybody  has  read,  that  everybody  can  read,  and  ichich  our  very 
fathers  thought  good  entertainment  scores  of  years  ago."  2 

Harsh  con-  Coiistructioiis  that  hinder  the  reader's  prog- 

structious.       j,ggg  ^j^j  j^j,  ^^  j^^g  sense  of  harmony  ohend 

against  ease. 

The  so-called  "  and  which  construction,"  —  by  which 
"  and "  is  used  to  connect  a  relative  clause  with  an  ex- 
pression not  co-ordinate  with  it,  —  though  found,  at  least 
occasionally,  in  many  good  authors,  cannot  but  be  re- 
garded as  an  offence  against  ease.     For  example :  — 

"And  immediately  the  curtain  parted,  and  Sidonia  beheld  a 
group  in  the  highest  style  of  art,  a7vl  ivliicli,  though  deprived  of  all 
the  magic  of  colour,  almost  expressed  the  passion  of  Correggio."  ^ 

"On  rounding  Europa  Point,  our  captain  forgetting  to  hoist  his 
colours,  we  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  a  shot  whiz  over  our  vessel, 
and  for  which  he  had  to  pay  ten  dollars."* 

"We  think  of  the  road-side  life  seen  by  Parson  Adams  or  Hum- 
phry Clinker,  and  of  ichich.  Mr.  Borrow  caught  the  last  glimpse 
when  dwelling  in  the  tents  of  the  Romany  "^ 

"He  begged  him  at  the  same  time  carefully  to  preserve  for  him 
his  Highland  garb  and  accoutrements,  particularly  the  arms,  curi- 
ous in  themselves,  and  to  which  the  friendship  of  the  donors  gave 
additional  value."  ** 

..."  Stephen,  with  a  glance  serious  hut  zvMch  indicated  intimacy, 
caught  the  eye  of  a  comely  lady."'^ 

^  Scott:  Quentin  Durward,  vol.  i.  chap.  vii. 

2  Frederick  Harrison  :  On  the  Choice  of  Books.  The  Fortnightly  Ale- 
view,  April  I,  1879,  p.  510. 

*  Disraeli ;  Tancred,  book  iv.  chap  xi. 

*  J.  H.  Allan:   A  Pictorial  Tour  in  the  Mediterranean,  chap.  viii. 

^  Leslie  Stephen:  Alexander  Pope,  chap.  iv.  English  Men  of  Letters 
Series. 

°  Scott :  Waverle y,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xxxiii. 
'  Disraeli:  Sybil,  book  ii.  chap.  x. 


CHOICE  OF  WORDS.  139 

"  She  would  have  exhausted  herself  in  expressing  regret  and 
making  apologies,  had  she  not  been  put  to  silence  and  restored 
to  equanimity  by  the  Princess,  who  requested,  iu  the  most  gentle 
manner,  yet  which,  from  a  Daughter  of  France,  had  the  weight 
of  a  command,  that  no  more  might  be  said."^ 

.  "a  lady  very  learned  in  stones,  ferns,  plants,  and  vermin, 
and  who  had  written  a  book  about  petals."  ^ 

"  The  camels,  laden  with  the  tents  and  baggage,  attended  by  a 
large  body  of  footmen  with  matchlocks,  and  who,  on  occasion,  could 
add  their  own  weight  to  the  burden  of  their  charge,  were  filing 
through  the  mountains."  ^ 

..."  the  land  about  consists  of  meads  of  a  vivid  colour,  or  veg- 
etable gardens  to  supply  the  neighbouring  population,  and  ivhose 
various  hues  give  life  and  lightness  to  the  level  ground."* 

" '  Should  '  is  used  to  express  a  future,  dependent  on  a  past 
tense,  and  when  the  event  is  under  our  control."^ 

..."  he  and  Lockhart  and  a  band  of  daring  young  Tories 
about  them  had  made  that  magazine  at  once  a  terror  and  a  new 
splendour  in  the  island,  and  where  there  was  no  lack  of  other  lit- 
erary possibilities  and  openings."  ^ 

The  use  of  "and"  to  connect  expressions  which  are  not  co- 
ordinate is  not  confined  to  the  "  and  which  construction  : " 

"  In  the  AVarrington  family,  and  to  distinguish  them  from  other 
personages  of  that  respectable  race,  these  effigies  have  always  gone 
by  the  name  of  '  The  Virginians.'  "  "^ 

"Sir  William's  only  chance  now  remaining  was  the  possibility 
of  an  overturn,  and  that  his  lady  or  ^  visitor  might  break  their » 
necks."  ^"^ 

^  Scott:  Queutin  Durward,  vol.  i.  chap.  xi. 

2  Antliony  Trollope:   Barcliestcr  Towers,  chap.  x. 

8  Disraeli:  Tancred,  book  iv.  chap.  x. 

*  Ibid.:  Syhil,  book  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

*  Angus:    Handbook  of  tlie  Enc,lish  Tongue,  cliap.  vi.  302. 

^  Masson:   De  Quincey,  chap.  vi.     English  Men  ot  Letters  Serie?. 
^  Thackeray:  The  A'irginians,  chap.  i. 
8  Is  not  a  word  omitted  here  "? 
®  See  pajje  54. 
1°  Scott:  The  Bride  of  Lammermoor.  vol.  ii.  chap.  xiv. 


140  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"He  avowed  himself  no  lover  of  names,  and  that  he  only  COU' 
tended   for  good   government,  from  \Ahat:;ver   (quarter  it   might 


come 


"1 


" We  could  see  the  lake  over  the  woods,  two  ui  tiuee  miles 
ahead,  and  that  the  river  made  an  abrupt  turn  [^outhward."2 

*'  I  had  reckoned  on  the  shore  being  deserted  and  tliat  I  might 
i^fiake  my  way  inland."  ^ 

"  1  recollect  studying  his  '  Complete  Angler  '  several  years  since, 
in  company  with  a  knot  of  friends  in  America,  and  moreover  that 
we  were  all  completely  bitten  with  the  angling  mania." ^ 

"  The  Soldan  undertook  the  preparation  of  the  lists,  and  to 
provide  accommodations  and  refreshments  of  every  kind  for  all 
who  were  to  assist  ^  at  the  solemnity."  ^ 

..."  she  listened  while  he  opened  the  street  door  and  closed 
it,  and  to  his  footsteps  growing  fainter  along  the  pavement  out- 
side.'"' 

"  All  they  knew  about  him  was  that  his  name  was  Arthur  St. 
Cl?.ir,  and  what  Dorotliy  Brooks  told  lheni."8 

The  introduction  of  trivial  or  vulgar  expressions  into 
Trivial  ex-  ssrious  composition,  though  usually  spoken  of 
pressions.  ^^  ^  fault  of  tastc  or  a  sin  against  elegance, 
may  be  deemed  an  offence  against  ease  as  defined  for  the 
purposes  of  this  book.  Sometimes  the  fault  springs  from 
ignorance,  sometimes  from  a  distorted  sense  of  humor. 
For  example:  — 

" '  Blessed  are  the  meek  ? '     That  was  one  of  His  ohservations."  ' 

"  He  [Protogenes,  the  grammarian]  puts  in  a  very  unpleasant 
appearance  elsewhere."® 

1  Jolin  Morley:  Edmund  Burke,  chap.  v.  English  Men  of  Letters 
series. 

2  Henry  D.  Thoreau:  The  Maine  Woods;  The  Allojjnsh  .-viid  E.ast 
Branch.  s  Student's  theme. 

*  i.v.iig:  The  Sketch  Book;  The  Angler.  ^  gg^  p^gg  43 
8  Scott:  The  Talisman,  chap  xxvii. 

'  Mrs.  \V.  K.  Clifford  :  Aunt  Anne,  cliap.  xiii. 

*  Quoted  from  tlie  discourse  of  an  ICnglish  open-air  preacher. 

*  Trench  :  Lectures  ou  Plutarch,  lect.  i. 


CHOICE  OF   WORDS.  141 

"  Our  friend,  the  Roman  cit,  has  therefore  thus  far,  in  his  prog- 
ress through  life,  obtained  no  brealifast,  if  he  ever  contemplated  an 
idea  .so//'««/<c.  .  .  .  I  could  bring  !ro^7on-/ti(u/cS' of  sentiments  .  .  . 
which  prove, more  cleai'ly  than  the  most  cnunent  pike-slaff,  .  .  .  that 
if  a  man  .  .  .  misses  coffee  and  hot  rolls  at  nine,  he  may  easily 
run  into  a  leg  of  nmtton  at  twelve."  ^ 

"The  House  of  Socrates  {Domus  Socratica  is  the  expression 
of  Horace)  were  those  who  next  attempted  to  popularize  Greek 
prose,  —  viz.  the  old  genlleman  himself',  the  founder  of  the  concern, 
and  his  two  apprentices,  l^lato  and  Xeuophon.  We  acknowledge  a 
sneaking  hatred  towards  the  whole  liousehold,  founded  chiefly  on 
the  intense  feeling  we  entertain  that  all  three  were  humbugs.  We 
own  the  stonfj  impeachment. '"^ 

A  class  of  faults  not  unlike  those  just  referred  to  is 
noted  by  Lowell  in  his  essay  on  Dryden:  — 

"  '  1  remember  when  I  was  a  boy,'  he  [Dryden]  saj^s  in  his  dedi- 
cation of  the  'Spanish  Friar,'  IGSl,  'I  thought  inimitable  Spenser 
a  mean  poet  in  comparison  of  Sylvester's  Du  Bartas,  and  was  rapt 
into  an  ecstasy  when  I  read  these  lines  :  — 

"Now  when  the  winter's  keener  breath  began 
To  crystallize  the  Baltic  oceiin, 
To  glaze  the  hikes,  to  bridle  up  the  floods, 
And  periwig  with  snuw  the  baldpate  woods." 

I  am  much  deceived  if  this  be  not  abominable  fustian.'  .  .  .  The 
'prithee,  undo  this  button,'  of  Lear,  coming  where  it  does  and 
expressing  what  it  does,  is  one  of  those  touches  of  the  pathetically 
sublime,  of  which  only  Shakespeare  ever  knew  the  secret.  Her- 
rick,  too,  has  a  charming  poem  on  'Julia's  Petticoat,"  the  charm 
being  that  he  exalts  the  familiar  and  the  low  to  the  region  of  senti- 
ment. In  the  passage  fixim  Sylvester,  it  is  precisely  the  reverse, 
and  the  wig  takes  as  much  from  the  sentiment  as  it  adds  lo  a 
Lord  Chancellor.     So  Pope's  proverbial  verse, 

'True  wit  is  Nature  to  advantage  drest,' 

unpleasantly  suggests  Nature  under  the  hands  of  a  lady's-maid. 
We  have  no  word  in  English  that  will  exactly  define  this  want  of 

1  De  Quincey :  The  Casuistry  of  Roman  Meals. 

2  Ibid. :  Essay  on  Style. 


142  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

propriety  in  diction.     Vulgar  is  too  strong,  and  commoniolace  too 
"weak.     Perhaps  bourgeois  comes  as  near  as  any."  ^ 

Writers  conspicuous  for  ease  are  not  always  conspicuous 

for  force :  nor  are  a  writer's  most  forcible  pas- 
Ease  or  force  ? 

sages  always  those  most  remarkable  for  beauty 
of  expression. 

"  Barry  Cornwall,"  writes  Mrs.  Browning,  "  has  done  a  good 
deal,  with  all  his  genius,"^  and  perhaps  as  a  consequence  of  his 
genius,^  to  emasculate  the  poetry  of  the  passing  age.  To  talk  of 
'fair  things'  when  he  had  to  speak  of  women,  and  of  'laughing 
flowers'  when  his  business  was  with  a  full-blown  daisy  [dame,  or 
dairymaid],  is  the  fashion  of  his  school.  His  care  has  not  been  to 
use  the  most  expressive,  but  the  prettiest  word.  His  Muse  has 
held  her  Pandemonium  too  much  in  the  cavity  of  his  ear.  Still, 
that  this  arises  from  a  too  exquisite  sense  of  beauty  as  a  means 
as  well  as  an  object,  is  evident."* 

"  At  one  of  the  country  houses  which  Burns  visited  after  his 
Edinburgh  sojourn,"  says  Mrs.  Oliphant,  "he  was  asked  'whether 
the  Edinburgh  literati  had  mended  his  poems  by  their  criticisms.' 
'  Sir,'  said  he,  '  these  gentlemen  remind  me  of  some  spinners  in 
my  country,  who  spin  their  thread  so  fine  that  it  is  neither  *  fit  for 
weft  nor  woof.'  .  .  .  Cowper's  mucli  more  decided  and  lengthy 
expression  of  indignation  was  called  forth  by  an  impertinence, 
the  alteration  of  a  line  in  his  'Homer,'  by  'some  accidental 
reviser  of  the  manuscript.' 

"  '  I  did  not  write  [he  says]  the  line  that  has  been  tampered  with 
hastily  or  without  due  attention  to  the  construction  of  it,  and  what 
appeared  to  me  its  only  merit  is  in  its  present  state  entirely  anni- 
hilated. I  know  that  the  ears  of  modern  verse-writers  are  delicate 
to  an  excess,  and  their  readers  are  troubled  with  the  same  squeam- 
ishness  as  themselves,^  so  that  if  a  line  does  not  run  as  smooth  as 
quicksilver  they  are  offended.  A  critic  of  the  present  day  serves 
a  poem  as  a  cook  serves  a  dead  turkey,  when  she  fastens  the  legs 

1  Lowell :  Literary  Essays  ;  Dryden. 

2  Query  as  to  the  position  of  these  ph rapes. 

8  Mrs.  Browning  :  Letters  to  R.  H.  Home,  letter  xxxvii. 
*  Query  as  to  the  position  of  neither.  &  feee  page  52. 


CHOICE   OF  WORDS.  143 

of  it  to  a  post  and  draws  out  all  the  sinews.  For  this  we  may 
thank  Pope  ;  but  unless  we  could  imitate  him  in  the  closeness  and 
compactness  of  his  expression,  as  well  as  in  the  smoothness  of  his 
numbers,  we  had  better  drop  the  imitation,  which  serves  no  other 
purpose  than  to  emasculate  and  weaken  all  we  write.  Give  me  a 
manly  rough  line,  with  a  deal  of  meaning  in  it,  rather  than  a  whole 
poem  full  of  musical  periods  that  have  nothing  but  their  oily 
smoothness  to  recommend  tliem. 

" '  I  have  said  thus  much  because  I  have  just  finished  a  much 
longer  poem  than  the  last,  which  our  common  friend  will  receive 
by  the  same  messenger  that  has  the  charge  of  this  letter.  In  that 
poem  there  are  many  lines  which  an  ear  so  nice  as  the  gentleman's 
who  made  the  above-mentioned  alteration  v.ould  undoubtedly 
condemn,  and  yet  (if  I  may  be  permitted  to  say  it)  they  cannot  be 
made  smoother  without  being  the  worse  for  it.  There  is  a  rough- 
ness on  the  plum  which  nobody  that  understands  fruit  would  rub 
off,  though  the  plum  would  be  much  more  polished  without  it, 
But,  lest  I  tire  you,  I  will  only  add  that  I  wish  you  to  guai'd  me 
from  all  such  meddling,  assuring  you  that  I  always  write  a.s 
smoothly  as  I  can  ;  but  that  I  never  did,  never  will,  sacrifice  the 
spirit  or  sense  of  a  passage  to  the  sound  of  it.' "  ^ 

Sometimes  a  writer,  for  fear  that  he  may  "sacrifice 
the  spirit  or  sense  of  a  passage  to  the  sound  of  it," 
purposely  introduces  a  vigorous  expression  which  is  pos- 
itively inelegant,  —  as  did  Carlyle  and  Browning,  —  in 
order,  by  force  of  contrast,  to  relieve  monotony  or  to 
stimulate  interest;  but  such  expressions  should,  as  a 
rule,  be  avoided. 

A  writer  who  sacrifices  ease  to  force  may  offend  the 
taste  by  vulgarity  of  expression  or  of  suggestion,  or  he 
may  employ  language  too  forcible  for  his  thought:  he 
may  in  one  way  or  another  make  force,  which  should 
be  a  means,  an  end  in  itself.  A  writer  who  sacrifices 
force  to  ease  may  become  weakly  diffuse  or  tiresomely 

1  Mrs.  Oliphant:  The  Literary  History  of  the  Eighteenth  and  Kine- 
teeuth  Centuries,  vol.  i.  cliap.  ii. 


144  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

smooth  or  offensively  artificial :  he  may  in  one  way  ot 
another  make  ease,  which  should  be  a  means,  an  end  in 
itself.  The  appearance  of  attention  to  either  vigor  or 
beauty  of  expiession  is  fatal  to  success.  A  writer  who 
manifestly  strives  after  vigor  is  justly  called  bombastic 
or  sensational;  one  who  manifestly  strives  after  beautf 
is  justly  called  atiected  or  sentimental 


CHAPTER  IL 

NUMBER   OF    WORDS. 

A  SENTENCE  sliould  Contain  every  word  that  helps  to 
communicate  thought  or  feeling  with  clearness,  force,  and 
ease,  but  not  one  word  more. 

The  proper  number  of  words  in  a  sentence  is  deter- 
mined by  a  great  variety  of  considerations.  Trite  thoughts 
on  familiar  topics  admit  of  briefer  expression  conciseness 
than  original  ideas.  Intelligent  persons  require  "^'**"'«- 
less  explanation  than  ignorant  ones,  not  only  because  of 
their  superior  knowledge,  but  also  because  of  their  supe- 
rior faculty  of  attention.  "  Some  hearers  and  readers  will 
be  found  slow  of  apprehension  indeed,  but  capable  of  tak- 
ing in  what  is  very  copiously  and  gradually  explained  to 
them ;  while  ^  others,  on  the  contrary,  who  are  much 
quicker  at  catching  the  sense  of  what  is  expressed  in 
a  short  compass,  are  incapable  of  long  attention,  and 
are  not  only  wearied,  but  absolutely  bewildered,  by  a 
diffuse  Style."  2 

" '  We  've  had  a  very  good  sermon  this  morning,'  was  the  fre- 
quent remark,  after  hearing  one  of  the  old  yellow  series,  heard 
with  all  the  more  satisfaction  because  it  had  been  heard  for  the 
twentieth  time ;  for  to  minds  on  the  Shepperton  level  it  is  repeti- 

1  See  page  89. 

2  Whately :  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  i.  sect.  ii.  See  also 
De  Quincey:  Essay  ou  Style. 

7 


146  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

tion,  not  novelty,  that  produces  the  strongest  effect;  and  phrases, 
like  tunes,  are  a  long  time  making  themselves  at  home  in  the 
brain."  i 

Whatever  the  subject  discussed,  whatever  the  character 
of  the  persons  addressed,  a  writer  should  avoid  both  dif- 
Extremesto  fuscuess  and  cxccssive  conciseness  :  diffuseness, 
be  avoided.  becausc  the  instant  a  reader  perceives  the  pres- 
ence of  unnecessary  words,  that  instant  his  attention 
flags ;  excessive  conciseness,  because  the  mind  requires  a 
certain  period  of  time  to  understand  a  thought  and  a  still 
longer  period  to  feel  its  force. 

SECTION  I. 

CLEARNESS. 

A  sentence  which  contains  too  few  words  for  adequate 
Too  few  expression  may  be  ungrammatical:^  or  it  may 

words.  i^g  correct  in  form  but  obscure  or  ambiguous 

in  substance,  that  is,  deficient  in  clearness.^ 

The  sense  may  be  changed  or  darkened  by  the  omission 
of  an  article.  "  The  treasurer  and  secretary  "  means  one 
person  who  holds  two  offices  ;  "  the  treasurer  and  the  sec- 
retary "  means  two  persons.  "  A  black  and  white  dog  " 
means  one  parti-colored  dog ;  "  a  black  and  a  white 
dog "  means  two  dogs,  one  black  and  one  white.  "  The 
honest  and  intelligent"  are  those  who  are  both  honest 
and  intelligent ;  "  the  honest  and  the  intelligent "  are 
two  classes.  The  following  sentences  are,  therefore, 
defective :  — 

1  George  Eliot :  Mr.  Gilfil's  Love-story,  cliap.  i. 
'  See  pages  70-72. 

8  Sunervacua  cum  taedio  dicuntur.  necessaria  cum  periculo  subtraban- 
tur.  —  Quintilian  :  Inst.  Orator,  iv.  ii.  xliv» 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS.  147 

"  The  council  and  /^  synod  i  maintained  .  .  .  that  the  unity  of  the 
person  implied  not  any  unity  in  the  consciousness."  ^ 

"  His  mother  had  watched  over  the  child,  in  whom  she  found 
alike  the  charm  and  /^  consolation  of  her  life."  ^ 

"  The  reader  is  I'equested  to  note  a  seeming  contradiction  in  the 
two  views  which  have  been  given  of  Graham  Bretton  —  the  public 
and  /^  private  —  the  out-door  and  the  in-door  view."* 

The  meaning  of  a  sentence  may  also  be  changed  or  ob- 
scured by  the  omission  of  a  noun,  a  verb,  a  preposition,  or 
some  other  word  or  words.     For  example :  — 

"  It  was  put  as  banter,  but  certainly  conveyed  j^  that  Lady 
Ermyntrude  was  neglecting  her  family."  ^ 

"  Marcella  smiled,  and,  laying  her  hand  on  Betty's,  shyly  drew 
her  ^."6 

"  Yet,  to  do  her  justice,  laxity  of  expression  did  not  act  upon  her 
conduct  and  warp  that,  as  it  does  /^  most  mystical  speakers."  ® 

"In  this  he  [Lord  Plunket]  closely  resembled  the  greatest  of 
advocates  in  modern  times,  and  f^  second  to  none  of  the  ancient 
masters." '' 

In  this  sentence,  the  reader  is  in  doubt  whether  Lord  Brougham 
means  to  say  that  Lord  Plunket  resembled  one  who  was  both  the 
greatest  of  modern  advocates  and  the  equal  of  the  ancient  masters, 
or  that  he  resembled  the  greatest  of  modern  advocates  and  was 
himself  the  equal  of  the  ancient  masters. 

"  If  the  heroine  is  depicted  as  an  unlovable  character,  there  is 
little  to  be  said  of  Guy's  /^  that  is  at  all  attractive."  ^ 

If  the  omitted  word  were  supplied,  this  sentence  would  still  be 
faulty  because  of  the  use  of  "  character  "  in  two  senses.  It  would 
be  better  to  say,  "  If  the  heroine  is  depicted  as  unlovable,  there  is 
little  to  be  said  of  Guy's  character,"  etc. 

1  The  context  shows  that  the  council  was  one  body,  the  synod  another. 

2  Hume ;   History  of  Eudaiul,  vol.  i.  chap.  i. 
8  Disraeli ;  Tancred,  book  i.  chap.  ii. 

*  Charlotte  Bronte :  Villette,  cliap.  xix. 

6  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward :  Marcella,  book  iii.  chap.  xi. 

«  Charles  Reade :  Hard  Cash,  chap.  xxvi. 

"^  Brougiiam  ;  Statesmen  of  the  Time  of  George  III. ;  Lord  Plimket. 

8  The  [London]  Spectator  (1876). 


148  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  His  political  education  was  due  to  Jeremy  Bentham,  whom  he 
edited  and  admired."  ^ 

The  writer  of  this  sentence  has  made  "Jeremy  Bentham"  stand 
for  both  the  man  and  his  works.     A  similar  example  is  :  — 

"  Piano-forte  taught  and  tuned."  2 

Another  false  economy  is  that  of  omitting  the  con- 
nectives which  bind  clause  to  clause,  sentence  to  sen- 
tence, and  paragraph  to  paragraph.  Judiciously  used, 
these  connectives^  transform  a  heterogeneous  collection 
of  assertions  into  a  composition,  a  consistent  whole, 
and  thus  enable  the  reader  to  follow  a  chain  of  ideas 
link  by  link,  to  perceive  what  is  cause  and  what  conse- 
quence, what  is  principal  and  what  accessory.  Strike 
from  a  page  of  any  master  of  reasoning  every  though, 
■while,  hence,  accordingly,  yet,  notwithstanding,  for,  there- 
fore^ on  the  one  hand,  on  the  other  hand,  now,  indeed,  and 
you  will  be  surprised  to  see  how  much  is  taken  away. 
The  argument  remains,  of  course,  but  it  is  much  more 
difficult  to  follow.  You  have  shortened  the  page  by  a 
ime  or  two,  but  you  have  lengthened  the  time  requisite 
for  its  comprehension. 

The  omission  of  words  necessary  to  the  sense  or  to  the 
construction  is  more  excusable  in  verse  than  in  prose; 
Omissions  in  ^^^^  i^  vcrse  rapidity  of  movement  carries  the 
reader  over  many  a  hiatus.  In  prose  such 
omissions  as  occur  in  the  following  passages  would  not 
be  allowable:  — 

"  0  Cromwell,  Cromwell ! 
Had  I  but  served  my  God  with  Iialf  the  zeal 
A  I  served  my  King,  he  would  not  in  mine  age 
Have  left  me  naked  to  mine  enemies."  * 

1  American  newspaper. 

*  Placard  in  a  shop  window.  8  ggg  page  86. 

*  Shakspere  :  Henry  VIII.,  act  iii.  scene  ii. 


NUMBER  OF   WORDS.  149 

"  Look  at  the  end  of  work,  contrast 
The  petty  Done  /^  the  Undone  vast, 
This  present  of  theirs  with  the  hopeful  pastl"* 

"Ah,  what  avails  it 
To  hide  or  to  shun  /^ 
Whom  the  Infinite  One 
Hath  granted  his  throne  ?  "  ^ 

"  For  He  that  worketh  high  and  wise. 
Nor  pauses  in  his  plan, 
Will  take  the  sun  out  of  tlie  skies 
Ere  /^  freedom  out  of  man."  ^ 

Such  omissions  as  poets  allow  themselves  are  more  ex- 
cusable in  imaginative  prose  than  in  didactic ;  for  when 
prose  approaches  poetry  it  may  to  a  limited  extent  avail 
itself  of  this  privilege  of  poetry.  To  a  limited  extent  only, 
however ;  for  the  compactness  and  the  rapidity  of  verse 
cannot  be  secured  in  prose.  Prose  has  a  compactness  and 
a  rapidity  of  its  own,  which  are  not  inconsistent  with 
perfect  clearness. 

The  presence  of  unnecessary  words,  as  well  as  the  ab- 
sence of  necessary  words,  bewilders  or  fatigues  the  reader, 
and  makes  him  lose  the  meaning  in  part,  if  not  obscurity 
altogether,  —  in  part,  if  he  confines  his  atten-  unne^ce^ry 
tion  to  one  of  the  threads  of  thought  which 
cross  and  recross  one  another ;  altogether,  if  he  cannot 
find  his  way  through  the  tangle.     As,  however,  the  fault 
of  multiplying  words  to  no  purpose  or  to  worse  than  no 
purpose  is  not  only  a  source  of  obscurity,  but  is  also  and 
with  more  serious  results  a  frequent  source  of  weakness, 
\t  will  be  discussed  at  length  in  the  next  section. 

1  Browning:  The  Last  Ride  Together. 

2  Emerson  :  Ode  to  Beauty. 

*  Ibid. :  Ode  sung  in  the  Town  Hall,  Concord,  July  4,  1857. 


150  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 


SECTION  n. 


FORCE. 


A  writer  who  wishes  to  arouse  and  to  hold  interest 
must  be  careful  not  to  use  more  words  than  are  absolutely 
Too  many  nccessary.  To  multiply  words  without  cause 
*'°'''^^'  is  to  be  tedious,  and  "  tediousness,"  as  Dr.  John- 

son says,  "  is  the  most  fatal  of  all  faults ;  negligences  or 
errors  are  single  and  local,  but  tediousness  pervades  the 
whole ;  other  faults  are  censured  and  forgotten,  but  the 
power  of  tediousness  propagates  itself."^ 

Force  may,  it  is  true,  be  promoted  by  the  presentation 
of  a  thought  in  several  forms,  provided  that  each  form  is 
Skilful  repe-  ^o  different  from  every  other  as  to  have  the 
tition.  freshness  of  novelty.    What  has  been  said  indi- 

rectly may  be  repeated  directly ;  the  abstract  may  be 
reproduced  in  concrete  form,  the  literal  in  figurative ;  an 
object  may  be  looked  at  from  several  points  of  view ; 
an  argument  may  be  presented  from  several  sides.  The 
discourse  should  continually  grow  in  interest,  the  less 
general  coming  after  the  more  general,  the  address  to 
the  passions  or  the  feelings  after  the  explanation  to  the 
understanding,  the  most  striking  phrase  last  of  all.  Of 
this  kind  of  repetition  Burke  was  a  master,  as  the 
following  citations  show :  — 

"  But  power,  of  some  kind  or  other,  will  survive  the  shock  in 
which  manners  and  opinions  perish;  and  it  will  find  other  and 
worse  means  for  its  support.  The  usurpation  which,  in  order  to  sub- 
vert ancient  institutions,  has  destroyed  ancient  principles,  will  hold 

1  Johnson  :  Lives  of  the  Poets ;  Prior. 


NUMBER   OF   WORDS.  151 

power  by  arts  similar  to  those  by  whicn  it  has  acquired  it.  When 
the  old  feudal  and  chivalrous  spirit  of  fealtij,  which,  by  freeing 
kinos  from  fear,  freed  both  kings  and  subjects  from  the  precautions 
of  tyranny,  shall  be  extinct  in  the  minds  of  men,  plots  and  assassi- 
nations will  be  anticipated  by  preventive  murder  and  preventive 
confiscation,  and  that  long  roll  of  grim  and  bloody  maxims,  which 
form  the  political  code  of  all  power,  not  standing  on  its  own  honour, 
and  the  honour  of  those  who  are  to  obey  it.  Kings  will  be  tyrants 
from  policy  when  subjects  are  rebels  from  principle."  i 

"Example,  the  only  argument  of  effect  in  civil  life,  demoL,- 
strates  the  truth  of  my  proposition.  Nothing  can  alter  my  opinion 
concerning  the  pernicious  tendency  of  this  example,  until  I  see 
some  man  for  his  indiscretion  in  the  support  of  power,  for  his  vio- 
lent and  intemperate  servility,  rendered  incapable  of  sitting  in 
parliament.  For  as  it  now  stands,  the  fault  of  overstraining 
popular  qualities,  and,  irregularly  if  you  please,  asserting  popular 
privileges,  has  led  to  disqualification ;  the  opposite  fault  never  has 
produced  the  slightest  punishment.  Resistance  to  power  has  shut 
the  door  of  the  House  of  Commons  to  one  man ;  obsequiousness 
and  servility,  to  none."  ^ 

De  Quincey  also  furnishes  an  example  of  effective 
repetition :  — 

"  In  that  great  social  organ,  which,  collectively,  we  call  literature, 
there  may  be  distinguished  two  separate  offices  that  may  blend 
and  often  do  so,  but^  capable,  severally,  of  a  severe  insulation,  and 
naturally  fitted  for  reciprocal  repulsion.  There  is,  first,  the  liter- 
ature  of  knoidedge ;  and,  secondly,  the  literature  of  power.  The 
function  of  the  first  is  —  to  teach  ;  the  function  of  the  second  is  — 
to  move:  the  first  is  a  rudder;  the  second,  an  oar  or  a  sail."* 

Another  method  of  repetition  consists  in  reiterating  a 
striking  word  or  phrase  until  it  comes  to  the  reader  al- 
most like  a  refrain.     Matthew  Arnold,  for  instance,  tells 

1  Burke:  Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  France. 

2  Ibid. :  Thoughts  on  the  Cause  of  the  Present  Discontents. 

*  See  page  70.  xvi. 

*  De  Quincey:  Leaders  in  Literature  ;  Alexander  Pope. 


152  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

US  over  and  over  again  that  "sweetness  and  light"  con- 
stitute "culture,"  that  the  foes  of  culture  are  "  Philistines," 
that  poetry  is  "  a  criticism  of  life,"  that  the  soul  of  Hel- 
lenism is  "beauty,"  and  that  of  Hebraism  "conduct." 
These  catchwords  all  readers  of  Arnold  are  sure  to  remem- 
ber, as  he  meant  they  should  do ;  but  his  harping  on  one 
string  irritates  some  of  his  most  intelligent  readers.  In 
the  work  of  an  inferior  writer  such  repetitions  are  in- 
tolerable. 

A  still  simpler  form  of  iteration  —  excellent  in  its  place, 
but  not  suitable  to  modern  prose  —  occurs  in  the  Bible,  in 
the  old  ballads,  in  Milton  and  other  poets. 

"Another  form  of  rhyme,"  says  Emerson,  "is  iterations  of 
phrase,  as  the  record  of  the  death  of  Sisera :  — 

" '  At  her  feet  he  bowed,  he  fell,  he  lay  down :  at  her  feet  he 
bowed,  he  fell :  where  he  bowed,  there  he  fell  down  dead.' 

"The  fact  is  made  conspicuous,  nay,  colossal,  by  this  simple 
rhetoric. 

" '  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure :  yea,  all  of  them 
shall  wax  old  like  a  garment;  as  a  vesture  shalt  thou  change 
them,  and  they  shall  be  changed :  but  thou  art  the  same,  and  thy 
years  shall  have  no  end.' 

"  Milton  delights  in  these  iterations :  — 

"  '  Though  fallen  on  evil  days, 
On  evil  days  though  falleu,  and  evil  tongues.* 

"'Was  I  deceived,  or  did  a  sable  cloud 
Turn  forth  its  silver  lining  on  the  night? 
I  did  not  err,  there  does  a  sable  cloud 
Turn  forth  its  silver  lining  on  the  night.'     Comua. 

"'A  little  onward  lend  thy  guiding  hand, 

To  these  dark  steps  a  little  farther  on.'    Samson."^ 

Another  excellent  example  of  iteration  may  be  taken 
from  Shakspere:  — 

1  Emerson .  Letters  and  Social  Aims ;  Poetry  and  Imagination, . 


NUMBER   OF   WORDS.  153 

"  Orlando     If  ever  you  have  look'd  on  better  days, 
If  ever  been  where  bells  have  kuoll'd  to  church, 
If  ever  sat  at  any  good  man's  feast. 
If  ever  from  your  eyelids  wiped  a  tear 
And  know  what 't  is  to  pity  and  be  pitied. 
Let  gentleness  my  strong  enforcement  be: 
In  the  which  hope  I  blush,  and  hide  my  sword. 

Duke  S.    True  is  it  that  we  have  seen  better  days. 
And  have  with  holy  bell  been  kuoll'd  to  church 
And  sat  at  good  men's  feasts  and  wiped  our  eyes 
Of  drops  that  sacred  pity  hath  engender'd: 
And  therefore  sit  you  down  in  gentleness 
And  take  upon  command  what  help  we  have 
That  to  your  wanting  may  be  minister'd."  ^ 

Such  are  some  of  the  ways  in  which  repetition  may  be 
used  with  effect ;  but  with  the  ordinary  writer  it  often 
serves  to  hide  poverty  of  thought.  An  asser-  unskufui 
tion  which  was  hardly  worth  making  once  is  '■^pe''*^'""- 
repeated  in  sh'ghtly  varying  forms  until  the  bewildered 
reader  doubts  whether  behind  so  much  smoke  there  is 
living  fire.  A  writer  who  repeats  himself  in  this  way  may 
know  what  he  is  doing ;  but  usually  he  does  not  stop  to 
inquire  whether  there  is  enough  difference  between  two 
expressions  to  warrant  him  in  using  both.  To  please  the 
ear  is  so  much  easier  than  to  satisfy  the  mind,  to  shadow 
forth  an  idea  in  several  shapes  is  so  much  less  trouble- 
some than  to  present  it  in  one  good  shape,  that  unne- 
cessary repetitions  abound.  If  all  such  were  expunged, 
it  is  painful  to  think  how  many  books  would  shrink  to 
half  their  size,  how  many  sermons  and  orations  would 
dwindle  into  five-minute  discourses,  how  many  newspaper 
"^reports"  into  paragraphs,  how  many  boys'  and  girls' 
aompositions  into  nothing. 


'  Shakspere :  As  Yon  Like  It,  act  ii.  scene  vii. 

7* 


154  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"  Simply  to  retrench  one  word  from  each  sentence,  one  super- 
fluous epithet,  for  example,  would  probably  increase  the  disposable 
time  of  the  public  by  one  twelfth  part;  in  other  words,  would  add 
another  month  to  the  year,  or  raise  any  sum  of  volumes  read  from 
eleven  to  twelve  hundred.  A  mechanic  operation  would  effect  that 
change ;  but,  by  cultivating  a  close)"  logic  and  more  severe  habits 
of  thinking,  perhaps  two  sentences  out  of  each  three  might  be 
pruned  away,  and  the  amount  of  possible  publication  might  thus 
be  increased  in  a  threefold  degree."  ^ 

Redundancy  —  the  fault  of  using  more  words  than  are 
necessary  to  express  an  idea  —  is  one  of  the 

Redundancy.  *'  ^ 

commonest  faults  of  composition.     It  assumes 
various  forms. 

The  crudest  form  of  redundancy  is  tautology ,2  —  the 
repetition  of  an  idea  in  the  same  or  in  differ- 

Tautology.  ,  , 

ent  words. 

Among  tautological  expressions  are :  first  or  original 
aggressor,^  Ids  own  autohiography ,^  coal  collier,  funeral 
obsequies,^  sylvan  forest,  umhrageoiis  shade,  falsely  mis- 
represents^ recalled  hack]  mutually  reciprocal,  verdant 
green,  audible  to  the  ear,  intolerable  to  be  borne^  popular 
with  the  people. 

Other  examples  of  tautology  are  to  be  found  in  the 
following  sentences :  — 

"  Never  did  Atticus  succeed  better  in  gaining  the  universal  love 
and  esteem  of  all  men."  ^ 

^  De  Quincey  :  Essay  on  Style. 

2  From  Ta\jr6,  the  same  thing,  and  \4yeiv,  to  say. 

8  The  Quarterly  Review  (1876). 

*  American  newspaper. 

6  Disraeli's  first  speech  in  Parliament.  Bulwer  (Lytton) ;  The  Com- 
ing Race. 

•'  John  Bright:  Speech  at  Manchester,  April  30,  1878. 
''  Anthony  Trollope  :  The  Last  Chronicle  of  Barset. 

*  Hawthorne  :  The  Scarlet  Letter. 

*  The  Spectator,  No.  467. 


NUMBER  OF  WORDS.  155 

" '  More  power  to  his  elbow '  is  the  popular  panacea  for  all  the 
ills  of  the  body  politic"! 

"This  subject,  which  caused  mutual 2  astonishment  and  per- 
plexity to  us  both,  entirely  engrossed  us  for  the  rest  of  the 
evening."  ^ 

"Let  us  glance  briefly  at  the  facts."* 

"  Sir  Robert  assured  his  son  in  reply,  '  that  from  the  informs 
tion,  intelligence,  and  tidings,  which  had  been  communicated  to, 
and  laid  before  him,  he  had  the  deepest  reason  to  believe,  credit, 
and  be  convinced,  that  a  riotous  assault  would  that  night  be  at- 
tempted and  perpetrated  against  Hazelwood-House.'  "  ^ 

" '  And,  gentlemen,  when  the  timbers  of  the  Vessel  of  the  State 
are  unsound  and  the  Man  at  the  Helm  is  unskilful,  would  those 
great  Marine  Insurers,  who  rank  among  our  world-famed  merchant- 
princes  —  would  they  insure  her,  gentlemen  ?  Would  they  under- 
write her?  Would  they  incur  a  risk  in  her  ?  Would  they  have 
confidence  in  her  V '  "  ^ 

"  Let  observation,  with  extensive  view, 
Survey  maukiiid  from  China  to  Peru."  '^ 

Or,  as  the  lines,  somewhat  unfairly,  have  been  translated  into 
prose  :  "  Let  observation  with  extensive  observation  observe  man- 
kind extensively." 

Macaulay's  example  from  Dr.  Johnson  is  well  known  :  — 

"'The  Rehearsal,'  he  said,  very  unjustly,  '  has  not  wit  enough 
to  keep  it  sweet ; '  then,  after  a  pause,  '  it  has  not  vitality  enough 
to  preserve  it  from  putrefaction.'  "  * 

Mr.  Borthrop  Trumbull,  the  auctioneer  of  Middlemarch,  "never 
used  poor  language  without  immediately  correcting  himself : "  — 

"  '  Oh  yes,  anybody  may  ask.  .  .  .  Anybody  may  interrogate. 

1  The  [New  York]  Critic,  Dec.  27,  1884.  Quoted  from  "The  Pall 
Mall  Gazette." 

2  See  page  40. 

8  Miss  Rurney  :  Evelina,  letter  Ixxvi. 
*  Student's  theme. 

6  Scott:  Guy  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xviii. 
8  Dickens:  Our  Mutual  Friend,  book  ii.  chap.  iii. 
■^  Johnson  :  The  Vanity  of  Human  Wishes. 

8  Macanlay:  Essays;  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson.  For  the  preference 
between  these  two  expressions,  see  pp.  102-104. 


156  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

Anyone  may  give  their  remarks  an  interrogative  turn.  ...  a  very 
nice  thing,  a  very  superior  publication,  entitled  "Ivanhoe."  You 
will  not  get  any  writer  to  beat  him  in  a  hurry,  I  think  —  he  will  not, 
in  my  opinion,  speedily  be  suipassed.  ...  I  hope  some  one  will 
tell  me  so  —  I  hope  some  individual  will  apprise  me  of  the  fact.'  "  ^ 

Words  that  are  habitually  coupled  come  to  constitute 
a  single  idea,  which  requires  both  words  for  its  full  ex- 
pression. Such  are  :  "  kith  and  kin,"  "  ways  and  means," 
"end  and  aim,"  "intents  and  purposes,"  "pains  and  pen- 
alties," "  bag  and  baggage,"  "  part  and  parcel,"  "  rags  and 
tatters,"  "sum  and  substance,"  "metes  and  bounds," 
"rules  and  regulations,"  "safe  and  sound,"  "null  and 
void." 

Many  common  expressions,  on  the  other  hand,  are  justly 
chargeable  with  tautology.  Such  are:  "prominent  and 
Ze«(im_5^  lawyers,"  "lold  and  audacious  robbers,"  "a  usual 
and  ordinary  occurrence." 

Expressions  that  are  not  exact  reproductions  of  what 
has  already  been-  said  may  come  so  near"  being  such 
as  to  belong  under  the  head  of  tautology.  For  ex- 
ample :  — 

..."  lie  rushed  into  the  yard  without  his  cocked  hat,  —  which  2 
is  a  very  curious  and  remarlnhle  circumstance :  as  showing  that  even 
a  beadle,  acted  upon  by  a  sudden  and  powerful  impulse,  may  be 
afflicted  with  a  momentary  visilalion  of  loss  of  self-possession  and 
forf/elfulness  of  personal  dignity.''''^ 

..."  he  [the  engine-driver]  preserved  a  composure  so  im- 
movable, and  an  indifference  so  complete,  that,  if  the  locomotive 
had  been  a  sucking-pig,  he  could  not  have  been  more  perfectly 
indifferent  to  its  doings."  ^ 

"  He  [Prior]  had  infused  into  it  ["  Solomon  "]  much  knowledge 
and  much  thought;  had  often  polished  it  to  elegance,  often  digni- 

1  George  Eliot:  Middleraarch,  book  iii.  chap,  xxxii. 

2  See  page  53.  3  Dickens ;  Oliver  Twist,  chap.  vii. 
*  ibid.  :  filartixi  Chuzzlewit,  chap.  xxi. 


NUMBER  OF    VVOKDS.  157 

fied  it  with  splendour,  and  sometimes  heightened  it  to  sublimity : 
he  perceived  in  it  many  excellences,  and  did  not  discover  that  it 
wanted  that  without  which  all  others  are  of  small  avail,  the  power 
of  enfjo(jinf)  attenlion  and  alluring  curiosity."  ^ 

..."  every  one  that  resided  in  the  valley  was  required  to  pro- 
pose whatever  might  contribute  to  make  seclusion  pleasant,  to  Jill 
up  the  vacancies  of  attention,  and  lessen  the  t,edious)iess  of  time."  ^ 

"As  she  swept  down  into  the  hall,  Lord  Hayes,  who  was  stand- 
ing there,  with  a  pair  of  white  kid  gloves  in  his  hand,  was  suddenly 
struck  and  astonished  at  her  beauty."  ^ 

Pleonasm,*  another  form  of  redundancy,  consists  in 
the  addition  of  words  which  can  be  omitted  without 
affectino-  the  construction  or  the  meaning  of 

"  .      , .    .       T     .       Pleonasm. 

the   sentence.      Such  words   are   itahcized  in 
the  following  sentences:  — 

"Class  Day,  June  22,  promises  to  be  of  its  usual  unique  am 
memorable  brilliancy."^ 

"  I  have  got  a  cold,  together  with  fever." 

.  .  .  "she  gave  her  happy  order  to  her  satellites  around  her."  • 

'^ Both  the  children  stared  at  each  other."' 

«  Both  Governor  JMcKiuley  and  Mr.  Reed  agree  that  the  fight 
has  only  just  begun."  » 

"  From  all  inquiries  on  every  hand  this  forenoon  the  general 
opinion  is  stronger  than  ever  that  McLean's  sole  and  main  motive 
for  his  crime  was  v7ore  or  less  jealousy."  ^ 

"  Their  thoughts  were  fettered  by  the  oppressing  chains  of  scho- 
lasticism." ** 

1  Johnson :  Lives  of  the  Poets ;  Prior.  Whately  calls  the  first  part 
of  tliis  sentence  tautological.  See,  however,  De  Quincey :  Essay  on 
Rhetoric,  note  7. 

2  Ibid. :  Rasselas,  chap.  i. 

8  E.  F.  Benson :  The  Rubicon,  book  ii.  chap.  v. 

*  From  ir\{wv,  irXiluv,  more,  comparative  of  iroXvs,  much. 
6  The  [UaivardJ  Crimson. 

6  Anthony  Troilope  :  Tales  of  all  Countries;  Miss  Sarah  Jack. 
'  Mrs.  Molesworth:  The  Tapestry  Room,  chap.  vii. 

*  American  newspaper.  ®  Student's  theme. 


158  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  There  is  nothing  which  disgusts  us  sooner  than  the  empty  pomp 
of  language."  1 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  newspapers  at  present  are  read 
altogether  too  much."  i 

"  Being  content  with  deserving  a  triumph,  he  refused  to  receive 
the  honor  that  was  offered  him."  ^ 

"  Indeed,  each  day  began  to  make  it  evident  that  he  had,  on  the 
whole,  rather  a  superabundance  of  animation  than  otherwise."  2 

"  By  a  multiplicity  of  words  the  sentiment  is  not  set  oif  and 
accommodated,  but,  like  David  equipped  in  Saul's  armour,  it  is  en- 
cumbered and  oppressed."^ 

..."  he  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  the  subordinate  and  lim- 
ited virtue,  which  alleviates  and  relieves  the  wants  of  others."  * 

"  It  is,  therefore,  as  it  seems  to  me,  utterly  incredible  and  absurd 
that  so  natural  and  common  a  result  of  Parliamentary  distinction 
as  the  offer  of  a  high  civil  appointment  should  have  moved  Stan- 
hope into  any  expression  of  surprise  or  resentment."  ^ 

"It  warns  us  against  hasty  judgment  and  cautions  us  against 
rash  conclusions.'"  ® 

"  The  author  has  thrown  all  the  pathos  and  melanchohj  which 
his  pen  could  express  into  this  sad  story  of  love."  « 

In  the  last  five  citations,  the  italicized  words  add  so  little  to 
the  thought  that  they  may  be  justly  deemed  pleonastic,  if,  indeed, 
they  do  not  make  the  sentences  tautological. 

A  common  form  of  pleonasm  consists  in  the  use  of 
more,  7nost,  very,  too,  so,  as,  and  other  particles  of  com- 
parison, with  adjectives  or  adverbs  that  do  not  admit  of 
comparison.     For  example :  — 

"  For  in  resting  .so  mainly  on  his  army,  and  drawing  from  it 
such  unlimited  power,  he  contrived  a  new  variety  of  monarchy."  ^ 

'  Student's  theme. 

s  Charlotte  M.  Yonge  ;  The  Heir  of  Redclyffe,  chap.  iii. 

*  Campbell :  The  Philosoph}'  of  Rhetoric,  book  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  ii. 

*  Scott :  The  Talisman,  chap.  vii. 

*  Lord  Mahon :  History  of  England,  vol.  i.  chap.  iv. 
^  6  Student's  theme. 

^  J.  R.  Seelej  :  Life  and  Times  of  Stein,  part.  IL  chap.  i. 


NUMBER  OF   WORDS.  159 

"  This  was  not  very  prudent,  as  the  young  Galen  had  elected  to 
establish  himself  in  Barchester,  very  mainly  in  expectation  of  the 
help  which  his  Ullathorne  connexion  would  give  him."^ 

"  Mr.  Freeman,  the  historian,  made  a  very  masterly  speech."  '•^ 

"A  misfortune  of  a  somewhat  unique  kind  has  befallen  the 
Bishop  of  Sidney.  "2 

"  In  essentials,  of  course,  even  Browne  is  by  no  means  so  unique 
among  his  contemporaries,  and  so  singular,  as  he  looks."  ^ 

"  But  though  not  more  true  in  his  political  convictions  than  an 
Englishman,  he  is  more  unanswerable."  ^ 

" '  But  are  there  many,  think  you,  among  us  who  would  find  the 
question  so  unanswerable  as  yom'self  ? '  "  6 

Usage  justifies  the  comparison  of  some  words  that, 
strictly  speaking,  do  not  admit  of  comparison.  No  one 
hesitates  to  say  "  safer,"  "  so  safe,"  "  surer,"  "  very  sure."  ^ 

The  unnecessary  repetition  of  and  enfeebles  style.  "  It 
has  the  same  sort  of  effect  as  the  frequent  use  of  the 
vulgar  phrase  and  so  [or  says  he,  says  I]  pleonastic 
when  one  is  telling  a  story  in  common  con-  '""^• 
versation,"^  or  of  and  now  in  a  newspaper  paragraph,  or 
of  a  drawling  tone  in  speaking.  The  omission  of  and, 
on  the  other  hand,  gives  rapidity.  '"Veni,  vidi,  vici,' 
expresses  with  more  spirit  the  rapidity  ^  and  quick  suc- 
cession^ of  conquest,  than  if  connecting  particles  had 
been  used."'^  Another  example  may  be  taken  from 
Milton :  — 

1  Anthony  Trollope :  Doctor  Thome,  chap.  ii. 

2  The  [London]  Spectator,  Feb.  9,  1884,  p.  175. 

3  Pater:  Appreciations;  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  Is  there  another  fault 
in  this  sentence  1 

*  Anthony  Trollope:  The  Widow's  Mite. 

6  Ibid. :  Framley  Parsonage,  chap.  xv.     For  yourself,  see  page  52. 
6  For  a  full   discussion  of  this  subject,   see  "  The  Foundations  of 
Rhetoric,"  pp.  135,  136. 

^  Blair  :  Lectures  on  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii. 
8  Is  this  an  example  of  tautology  ? 


160  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  O'er  many  a  frozen,  many  a  fiery  Alp, 
Rocks,  caves,  lakes,  feus,  bogs,  dens,  and  shades  of  death •^ 
A  universe  of  death."  i 

When,  however,  a  writer  desires  to  lay  stress  on  each 
one  of  a  number  of  objects  enumerated  in  succession,  he 
separates  the  names  of  those  objects  by  conjunctions; 
For  example :  — 

"  Or  other  worlds  they  seemed,  or  happy  isles. 
Like  those  Hesperian  Gardens  famed  of  old. 
Fortunate  fields,  and  groves,  and  flowery  vales ; 
Thrice  happy  isles  !  "  ^ 

A  common  form  of  pleonasm  consists  in  the  accumula- 
tion of  adjectives,  particularly  of  those  which  express 
Pleonastic  Something  implied  in  the  noun.  When  Homer 
adjectives.  gpeaks  of  " wet  waves,"  "white  milk,"  he  uses 
superfluous  adjectives ;  for,  as  everybody  knows,  waves  are 
always  wet  and  milk  is  always  white.  "  Thus,  too,  in  our 
own  national  songs,  Douglas  is  almost  always  the  doughty 
Douglas ;  England  is  merry  England ;  all  the  gold  is  red ; 
and  all  the  ladies  are  gay."  ^  In  Homer  and  the  old  Eng- 
lish ballads  such  expressions  are,  however,  a  natural  part 
of  the  style,  for  the  substantive  and  the  "constant 
epithet "  together  express  a  single  idea.  In  a  work  that 
professedly  imitates  the  ballad  or  the  Homeric  style, 
such  expressions  are  allowable ;  but  in  modern  prose 
they  seem  affected.  The  charge  of  affectation  may 
fairly  be  brought  against  authors  with  whom  the  sun 
is  always  "  glorious,"  moonlight  always  "  soft,"  snow 
always  "feathery,"  groves  always  "shady,"  impudence 
always  " bold,"  heroes  always  "noble."  Authors  of  this 
class,   not   content  with   a   single   adjective,   habitually 

'  Milton  :  Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  020.         2  \i,\([,^  book  iii.  line  567. 
3  Macaulay  :  Lays  of  Ancient  Rome ;  The  Battle  of  the  Lake  Regillus^ 
Preface. 


mJMBER  OF  WORDS.  161 

use  two,  or  even  three,  as  if  they  expected  to  make  a 
unit  by  putting  cipher  after  cipher. 

So  irritating  is  this  form  of  pleonasm  that  some  critics 
have  made  war  upon  the  adjective,  as  if  it  were  a  part  of 
speech  peculiarly  liable  to  abuse.  They  would  have  a 
young  writer  strike  out  of  his  compositions  every  adjec- 
tive, as  other  critics  advise  him  to  omit  every  passage 
which  he  particularly  likes. 

"  I  remember,  when  I  was  young,"  says  Sir  Arthur  Helps, 
"writhig  some  paper — about  sanitary  matters  I  think  it  was  — 
and  showing  it  to  an  older  and  much  wiser  friend.  I  dare  say  it 
was  full  of  the  exuberant  faults  of  youthfulness.  He  said  to  me, 
'  My  dear  fellow,  I  foresee  that  this  is  not  the  only  thing  you  will 
write.  Let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  Whenever  you  write  a 
sentence  that  particularly  pleases  you,  cut  it  out.'  "  ^ 

Such  counsels  are  grounded  on  the  unwarranted  assump- 
tion that  a  young  writer  either  has  no  judgment  or  is 
more  likely  to  be  bombastic  than  to  be  tame.  Undoubt- 
edly a  young  writer  should  avoid  tawdry  epithets;  but 
he  should  be  at  least  equally  on  his  guard  against  unin- 
teresting tameness.  Undoubtedly  the  judgment  of  a 
young  writer  is  less  trustworthy  than  that  of  a  writer  of 
experience.  Undoubtedly  a  young  writer  should  submit 
his  compositions  to  a  competent  critic ;  but  a  competent 
critic  knows  that  to  counsel  him  to  total  abstinence  from 
this  or  that  part  of  speech  is  to  teach  him  temperance  in 
nothing  It  would  be  as  wise  to  prohibit  the  use  of  fig- 
urative language  because  mixed  metaphors  are  worse 
than  none  as  to  recommend  the  disuse  of  adjectives  be- 
cause they  are  often  misused.^ 

1  Helps:  Social  Pressure,  chap.  viii. 

2  In  pneris  oratio  perfecta  nee  exigi  nee  spcrari  pote.st ;  melior  autem 
indoles  laeta  generosique  conatus  et  vel  plura  iusto  concipiens  interim 
Bpiritus.  —  Quintiliau :  Inst.  Orator,  ii.  iv.  iv. 


162  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

Verbosity  is  perhaps  the  most  objectionable  form  of 
reduudancy,  because  it  is  the  most  difficult  to  cure.  Ver- 
bosity pervades  a  sentence  or  a  paragraph  so 

*  Verbosity. 

thoroughly  that  no  excision  of  words  or  clauses 

will  avail :  the  only  remedy  is  to  recast  the  sentence  or 

the  paragraph. 

One  form  of  verbosity  appears  in  paraphrases  of  texts 
of  Scripture  and  popular  proverbs.     Sometimes  a  para- 
phrase  brings    out   the    meaning   of    a    pithy 

Paraphrases.  .  o  j.  ^ 

saying;   but  usually,  like    the   cramp-fish    or 
torpedo,  it  "  benumbs  what  it  touches." 

Dr.  Campbell  cites  from  Dr.  Clarke  a  paraphrase  of  the 
following  text :  — 

"  Therefore  whosoever  heareth  these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth 
them,  I  will  liken  him  unto  a  wise  man,  which  built  his  house 
upon  a  rock: 

"  And  the  rain  descended,  and  the  floods  came,  and  the  winds 
blew,  and  beat  upon  that  house,  and  it  fell  not;  for  it  was  founded 
upon  a  rock."  i 

"Now,"  says  Dr.  Campbell,  "let  us  hear  the  paraphrast: 
'  Wherefore  he  that  shall  not  only  hear  and  receive  these  my  in- 
structions, but  also  remember,  and  consider,  and  practise,  and  live 
according  to  them,  such* a  man  may  be  compared  to  one  that  builds 
his  house  upon  a  rock  ;  for  as  a  house  founded  upon  a  rock  stands 
unshaken  and  Jirm  against  all  the  assaults  of  rains,  and  floods,  and 
storms,  so  the  man  who,  in  his  life  and  conversation,  actually  j)rac- 
tises  and  obeys  my  instructions,  will  frmly  resist  all  the  tempta- 
tions of  the  devil,  the  allurements  of  pleasure,  and  the  terrors  of 
persecution,  and  shall  be  able  to  stand  in  the  day  of  judgment,  and 
be  rewarded  of  God.'"  2 

"I  remember,"  says  Matthew  Arnold,  "the  relief  with  which, 
after  long  feeling  the  sway  of  Franklin's  imperturbable  common- 
sense,  T  came  upon  a  jiroject  of  his  for  a  new  version  of  the  Book 
of  Job,  to  replace  the  old  version,  the  style  of  which,  says  Franklin, 

1  Matthew  vii.  24,  2.5. 

2  Campbell :  The  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  book  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  ii. 


NUMBER   OF   WORDS.  163 

has  become  obsolete,  and  thence  less  agreeable.  *  I  give,'  he  con- 
tinues, '  a  few  verses,  which  may  serve  as  a  sample  of  the  kind  of 
version  I  would  recommend.'  We  all  recollect  the  famous  verse 
in  our  translation  :  '  Then  Satan  answered  the  Lord  and  said ; 
"  Doth  Job  fear  God  for  nought  ?  "  '  Franklin  makes  this  :  '  Does 
Your  Majesty  imagine  that  Job's  good  conduct  is  the  effect  of 
mere  personal  attachment  and  affection?'  I  well  remember  how 
when  first  I  read  tliat,  I  drew  a  deep  breath  of  relief,  and  said  to 
myself:  'After  all,  there  is  a  stretch  of  humanity  beyond  Frank- 
lin's victorious  good  sense  ! '"  ^ 

Such  paraphrases  are  common  in  religious  verse.     Read, 

for  example,  a  passage  quoted  by  Wordsworth  from  Dr. 

Johnson :  — 

"  Turn  on  the  prudent  Ant  thy  heedless  eyes, 
Observe  her  labours,  Sluggard,  and  be  wise; 
No  stern  command,  no  monitory  voice, 
Prescribes  her  duties,  or  directs  her  choice; 
Yet,  timely  provident,  she  hastes  away 
To  snatch  the  blessings  of  a  plenteous  day ; 
"When  fruitful  Summer  loads  the  teeming  plain, 
She  crops  the  harvest,  and  she  stores  the  grain. 
How  long  shall  sloth  usurp  thy  useless  hours, 
Unnerve  thy  vigour,  and  enchain  thy  powers'? 
While  artful  shades  thy  downy  couch  enclose, 
And  soft  solicitation  courts  repose. 
Amidst  the  drowsy  charms  of  dull  delight,  , 

Year  chases  year  with  unremitted  flight, 
Till  Want  now  following,  fraudulent  and  slow, 
Shall  spring  to  seize  thee,  like  an  ambush 'd  foe."* 

"  From  this  hubbub  of  words,"  says  AVordsworth,  "pass  to  the 
original.     '  Go  to  the  Ant,  thou  Sluggard,  consider  her  ways,  and 

1  Matthew  Arnold:  Culture  and  Anarchy,  chap.  i.  The  whole  of  this 
remarkable  translation,  which  served  as  part  of  a  political  squib  and  was 
classed  by  its  author  among  "bagatelles,"  may  be  found  in  Franklin's 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  166  (Sparks's  edition).  It  may  be  questioned  whether 
Franklin  regarded  tlie  language  he  used  as  an  improvement  on  the  old 
version.     Mr.  Arnold  takes  Franklin  very  seriously. 

2  Johnson  :  Paraphrase  of  Proverbs  vi.  6-11. 


164  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

be  wise  :  which  having  no  guide,  overseer,  or  ruler,  provideth  her 
meat  in  the  summer,  and  gathereth  her  food  in  the  harvest.  How 
long  wilt  tliou  sleep,  O  Sluggard?  When  wilt  thou  arise  out  of 
thy  sleep  ?  Yet  a  little  sleep,  a  little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of 
the  hands  to  sleep.  So  shall  thy  poverty  come  as  one  that  travel- 
leth,  and  thy  want  as  an  armed  man."'i 

Another  example  may  be  taken  from  Thomson  :  — 

"  Observe  the  rising  lily's  suowy  grace, 
Observe  the  various  vegetable  race ; 
They  ueitlier  toil,  nor  spin,  but  careless  grow, 
Yet  see  how  warm  tliey  blush  !  how  bright  they  glow ! 
What  regal  vestmeuts  cau  with  them  compare ! 
What  kiug  so  shiuiug  !  or  what  queeu  so  fair  !  "  ^ 

Paraphrases  of  tliis  character  are,  it  is  to  be  hoped,  less 
frequent  nowadays  than  they  were  a  century  ago;  but 
they  are  still  in  favor  with  a  certain  class  of  preachers, 
clerical  and  lay,  whether  writing  in  prose  or  in  verse, 
ciicumiocu-  Another  form  of  verbosity  is  the  circumlocu- 
*"'°*'  tion  (or  periphrasis  ^). 

Usually  circumlocutions  are  circuitous  ways  of  saying 
what  might  better  be  said  directly.  They  sometimes  arise 
from  an  effort  to  avoid  the  repetition  of  a  word,  sometimes 
from  would-be  wit,  and  sometimes  from  an  attempt  to 
elevate  the  style.^ 

The  lamp  of  fh>j,  the  fair  sex,  patrons  nf  hvshanrlry,  the  morning 
meal,  the  dental  organs,  are  weak  ways  of  designating  "  the  sun," 
"woman,"  "farmers,"  "breakfast,"  "teeth." 

"At  the  time  of  the  Irish  Famine,  no  clergyman  could  bring 
himself  to  say  the  word 'potato '  in  the  pulpit.  Preachers  called 
it  '  that  root,  upon  which  so  many  thousands  of  God's  creatures  de- 
pended for  support,  and  which  in  His  wise  purposes  had  for  a  time 
ceased  to  flourish ; '  or  spoke  of  '  that  esculent  succulent,  the  loss 

1  Wordsworth  :  Prose  Works  ;  Of  Poetic  Diction. 

2  James  Thomson :  A  Paraphrase  on  the  latter  part  of  the  Sixth 
Chapter  of  St.  Matthew. 

*  From  Trept,  around,  and  (ppa^nv,  to  speak.         *  See  pages  102-104. 


NUMBER   OF    WORDS.  165 

of  which  had  deprived  so  many  hungry  sinners  of  their  daily  sus- 
tenance ; '  but  no  one  said  '  potato.'  "  ^ 

One  of  Homer's  simplest  lines  is  translated  by  F,  W.  Newman 
as  follows :  — 

"  Thus  they  reciprocally  held  betwixt  themselves  discourses."  2 

"Instead  of  stabbing,"  writes  Lowell,  "he  [Di-yden]  'with  steel 
invades  the  life.'  The  consequence  was  that  by  and  by  we  have  Dr. 
Johnson's  poet,  Savage,  telling  us,  — 

'  In  front,  a  parlor  meets  my  entering  view, 
Opposed  a  room  to  sweet  refection  due ; ' 

.  .  ,  and  Mr.  Bruce,  in  a  Danish  war-song,  calling  on  the  vikings 

to  *  assume  their  oars.'  "  ^ 

Wordsworth,  disdaining  to   call   a  sore   throat  by  its  name, 

says : — 

"The  winds  of  March,  smiting  insidiously, 

Raised  m  the  tender  passage  of  the  throat 

Vieivless  obstruction."  ■* 

Cowper,  unwilling  to  say  "gun,"  says  :  — 

"  Such  is  the  clamour  of  rooks,  daws,  and  kites, 
Th'  explosion  of  the  tevell'd  tube  excites."  ^ 

Dr.  Grainger,  unwilling  to  say  "  rats  "  or  "  mice,"  saj^s,  accord- 
ing to  Boswell  ^ :  — 

"  Nor  with  less  waste  the  ivhisl~ered  vermin  race, 
A  countless  clan,  despoiled  the  lowland  cane." 

Other  examples  of  weak  circumlocutions  are :  — 

.  .  .  "the  solitary  sound  of  one  o'clock  had  long  since  resounded 

on  the  ebon  ear  of  night,  and  the  next  signal  of  the  advance  of 

time  was  close  approaching."' 

1  C.  II.  Grundy:  Dull  Sermons.  Macmillan's  Magazine,  July,  1876, 
p.  265.  Rnfns  Clioate  is  said  to  have  talked  to  a  jury  about  "  that  deli- 
cious esculent  of  the  tropics,  —  the  squash." 

2  *n.s  ol  fxev  roiavra  Trpbs  a\\v\ovs  aySpevov.  —  Ilomer :  The  Hiad,  V.  274. 

3  Lowell:  Literary  Essays;  Dryden. 

*  Wordsworth :  The  Excursion,  book  vii. 

*  Cowper :   Hope. 

8  James  Boswell :  The  Life  of  Samuel  Johnson. 
T  Scott ;  Guy  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xx. 


166  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  The  Dominie,  .  .  .  unable  to  stifle  his  emotions,  ran  away  to 
empty  the  feelings  of  his  heart  at  his  eyes."  ^ 

"But  he  had  scarcely  achieved  the  utterance  of  these  words, 
when  he  received  a  manual  compliment  on  the  head."  2 

"  Clifford  .  .  .  now  looked  up  for  a  moment,  and  then,  turning 
round  and  presenting  the  dorsal  part  of  his  body  to  long  Ned, 
muttered,  'Pish'l"8 

..."  no  one,  ignorant  of  the  fact,  would  suppose,  that  the  gen- 
tleman who  was  now  seated  at  the  hospitable  board  of  Colonel 
Howard,  directing,  with  so  much  discretion,  the  energies  of  his 
masticators  to  the  delicacies  of  the  feast,  could  read,  in  his  care- 
less air  and  smiling  visage,  that  those  foragers  of  nature  had  been 
so  recently  condemned,  for  four  long  hours,  to  the  mortification  of 
discussing  the  barren  subject  of  his  own  sword-hilt."* 

"This  Shelley  biography,"  writes  Mark  Twain,  "is  a  literary 
cake-walk.  The  ordinary  forms  of  speech  are  absent  from  it. 
All  the  pages,  all  the  paragraphs,  walk  by  sedately,  elegantly,  not 
to  say  mincingly,  in  their  Sunday-best,  shiny  and  sleek,  perfumed, 
and  with  boutonnieres  in  their  buttonholes ;  it  is  rare  to  find  even  a 
chance  sentence  that  has  forgotten  to  dress.  If  the  book  wishes 
to  tell  us  that  Mary  Godwin,  child  of  sixteen,  had  known  afliic- 
tions,  the  fact  saunters  forth  in  this  nobby  outfit :  '  Mary  was  her- 
self not  unlearned  in  the  lore  of  pain.'  "  ^ 

"Take  my  advise,  honrabble  sir,"  writes  Mr.  Yellowplush,  "  lis- 
ten to  a  humble  footmin :  it 's  genrally  best  in  poatry  to  under- 
stand puffickly  what  you  mean  yourself,  and  to  ingspress  your 
meaning  clearly  afterwoods  —  in  the  simpler  words  the  better, 
praps.  You  may,  for  instans,  call  a  coronet  a  coronal  (an  'an- 
cestral coronal,')  if  you  like,  as  you  might  call  a  hat  a  '  swart 
sombrero,' ' a  glossy  four-and-nine,'  'a  silken  helm,  to  storm  im- 
permeable, and  lightsome  as  the  breezy  gossamer ; '  but,  in  the 
long  run,  it's  as  well  to  call  it  a  hat.  It  in  a  hat;  and  that  name 
is   quite   as  poetticle   as   another.      I    thmk   it 's   Playto,   or  els 

^  Scott:  Guy  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxvi. 

2  Dickens:  Martin  Chnzzlewit,  chap.  ix. 

3  Bubver  (Lytton):  Paul  Clifford,  chap.  xvi. 
*  Cooper:  The  Pilot,  chap.  xxvi. 

5  Mark  Twain  ;  In  Defence  of  Harriet  Shelley.  North  American  Re- 
Tiew,  July,  1894,  p.  109. 


NUMBER  OF   WORDS.  167 

Harrystottle,  who  observes  that  what  we  call  a  rose  by  any  other 
name  would  smell  as  sweet.  Confess,  now,  dear  Baruet,  don't 
you  long  to  call  it  a  Polyanthus  ? "  ^ 

Sometimes  a  circumlocution  serves  a  useful  purpose. 
Tennyson's  designation  of  King  Arthur's  moustache  as 
"the  knightly  growth  that  fringed  his  lips"^  useful  cir-  ' 
dignifies  it ;  Addison's  designation  of  a  fan  as  '^^i^'^^^i""^- 
'  that  little  modish  machine  "  ^  suggests  its  deliberate  use 
as  a  weapon  in  the  warfare  of  polite  society  ;  Swift's  paren- 
thetical allusion  to  Defoe  ("  the  fellow  that  was  pilloried, 
I  have  forgot  his  name  "  '^)  is  a  skilful  attack  on  an  enemy ; 
Cicero's  assertion,  not  that  Milo's  servants  killed  Clodius, 
but  that  they  "  did  that  which  every  one  would  have 
wished  his  servants  to  do  in  a  similar  case,"^  is  an  argu- 
ment;  and  Landor  might  plead  several  reasons  for  his 
manner  of  saying  that  some  critics  resemble  monkeys :  — 

"  There  is  hardly  a  young  author  who  does  not  make  his  first 
attempt  in  some  review  ;  showing  his  teeth,  hanging  by  his  tail, 
pleased  and  pleasing  by  the  volubility  of  his  chatter,  and  doing 
his  best  to  get  a  penny  for  his  exhibitor  and  a  nut  for  his  own 
pouch,  by  the  facetiousness  of  the  tricks  he  performs  upon  our 
heads  and  shoulders."  ^ 

Another  form  of  verbosity  is  prolixity,  —  the  men- 
tion of  things  not  worth  mentioning.    A  waiter 

1         •  •  1    •  1  c        1  Prolixity. 

who  IS  trymg  to  convince  his  readers  of  what 

he  believes   to  be  the  truth  will  succeed  but  ill  if  he 

forces  them  to  follow  every  step  of  a  long  logical  process. 

^  Thackeray :  The  Memoirs  of  Mr.  C.  J.  Ycllowplush ;  Epistles  to  the 
Literati,  Mr.  Yellowplush  to  Sir  Edward  Lytton  Bulwer. 

^  Tennyson :  Morte  d'  Arthur. 

3  The  Spectator,  No.  102. 

^  Swift:  A  Letter  conccrnini^  the  Sacramental  Test. 

5  Fecerunt  id  servi  Milonis  .  .  .  quod  suos  qnisque  servos  in  tali  re 
facere  voluLsset.  —  Cicero:  Oratio  pro  Milone,  x. 

'  Landor:  Conversations,  Third  Series;  Southey  and  Porson. 


168  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

A  story-teller  who  gives  the  same  prominence  to  the  sub- 
ordinate or  incidental  as  to  the  essential  parts  of  his  nar- 
rative, exhausts  his  readers  long  before  they  reach  the  end 
of  the  story.  An  historical  writer  who  pays  no  attention 
to  perspective  is  a  mere  chronicler  of  events. 

The  second  of  the  following  sentences  tells  a  person  of  average 
intelligence  all  that  is  said  in  the  first :  — 

"  On  receiving  this  message,  he  arose  from  his  chair,  put  on  his 
coat  and  hat,  took  his  umbrella,  went  downstairs,  walked  to  the 
railway  station,  bought  a  ticket  for  Plymouth,  and  started  in  the 
eleven  o'clock  train." 

"  On  receiving  this  message,  he  started  for  Plymouth  by  the 
eleven  o'clock  train."  * 

It  might  be  difficult  to  find  in  a  reputable  author  a  sentence 
(short  enough  to  quote)  so  painfully  prolix  as  that  given  above ; 
but  every  one  who  has  read  aloud  a  novel  by  Dickens  —  not  to 
speak  of  inferior  writers  —  knows  what  prolixity  is. 

As  a  man  sees  more  for  himself  in  a  moment  than  he 
can  learn  from  pages  of  description,  so  an  expression  that 
A  suggestive  suggcsts  a  sccnc  or  a  thought  is  not  less  clear 
^^^^^-  than  a  statement  in  detail,  and  is  far  more  for- 

cible. One  well-arranged  sentence  may  say  more  than  a 
paragraph,  one  well-chosen  word  more  than  a  sentence. 
Even  a  dash  may  be  eloquent:  — 

"  If  you  should  transfer  the  amount  of  your  reading  day  by  day 
from  the  newspaper  to  the  standard  authors  —  But  who  dare  speak 
of  such  a  thing  ?  "  ^ 

1  Quintilian  has  illustrated  this  point  in  a  similar  way :  "  solet  enim 
qnfxedam  esse  partium  hrevitas,  quae  loiigam  tamen  efficit  summam.  'in 
portum  veni,  navem  prospexi,  quanti  veheret  interrogavi,  de  pretio  con- 
venit,  conscendi,  suhlatae  sunt  ancorae,  solvimus  oram,  profecti  sumus.' 
nihil  horurn  dici  celerius  potest,  sed  sufficit  dicere  :  'e  porta  navigavi.'  et, 
quotiens  exitus  rei  satis  ostendit  priora,  dehemus  hoc  esse  contenti,  quo 
reliqua  intelligiintur." — Inst.  Orator,  iv.  ii.  xli.  See  also  J.  Q.Adams; 
Lectures  on  Fihetoric  and  Oratory,  lect.  xviii. 

2  Emerson :   Society  and  Solitude  ;  Books. 


NUMBER   OF   WORDS.  169 

"  Richter  says,  in  the  Island  of  Sumatra  there  is  a  kind  of 
'Light-chafers,'  hirge  Fire-flies,  which  people  stick  upon  spits,  and 
illuminate  the  ways  with  at  night.  Persons  of  condition  can  thus 
travel  with  a  pleasant  radiance,  which  they  much  admire.  Great 
honour  to  the  Fire-flies  !     But  —  !  "  i 

"  Generations  of  monkeys  had  been  scared  into  good  behaviour 
by  the  stories  their  elders  told  them  of  Kaa,  the  night-thief,  who 
could  slip  along  the  branches  as  quietly  as  moss  grows,  and  steal 
away  the  strongest  monkey  that  ever  lived;  of  old  Kaa,  wdio  could 
make  himself  look  so  like  a  dead  branch  or  a  rotten  stump  that  the 
wisest  were  deceived  till  the  bi-anch  caugiit  them,  and  then  —  "  ^ 

By  a  suggestive  style  is  meant  a  style  that  is  suggestive 
to  the  person  addressed.  The  assertion  that  "  the  fox 
looked  out  from  the  windows  "^  of  Balclutha  would  not 
represent  desolation  to  one  who  knew  nothing  about 
foxes.  Byron's  "  Niobe  of  Nations"  would  tell  nothing 
about  Eome  to  one  who  had  never  heard  the  story  of 
Niobe.  The  word  "Athens"  says  much  more  to  one 
man  than  could  be  learned  by  another  from  an  epitome 
of  Grecian  History. 

The  success  of  a  suggestive  style  depends  upon  the  skil- 
ful selection  of  those  particulars  which  bring  the  whole 
to  mind  inevitably  and  at  once.  A  circumstance  which, 
thouo-h  trivial  in  itself,  stands  for  other  circumstances 
more  important,  may  tell  more  than  could  be  told  by 
pages  of  detail. 

"  In  his  [Burke's]  illustrations  no  less  than  in  the  body  of  hi? 
work,  few  things  are  more  remarkable  than  his  exquisite  instinct 
of  selection,  —  an  instinct  which  seems  almost  confined  to  the 
French  and  the  English  mind.  It  is  the  polar  opposite  of  what 
is  now  sometimes  called,  by  a  false  application  of  a  mathematical 

1  Carlyle  :  Heroes  and  Hero-worsliip ;  The  Hero  as  Man  of  Letters. 

2  Rudyard  Kipling:  Tlie  Jungle  Book;  Kaas  Hunting. 

3  Quoted  from  ( )ssiau  by  Matthew  Arnold  iu  his  essay  "  On  the  Study 

of  Celtic  Literature." 
8 


170  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

term,  exiiavstiveness,  —  formerly  much  pructised  by  the  Germans, 
and  consisting,  to  use  the  iiappy  phrase  of  Goldsmith,  in  a  ceriiiin 
manner  of  'writing  the  subject  to  the  dregs;'  saying  all  that  can 
be  said' on  a  given  subject,  without  considering  how  far  it  is  to  the 
purpose;  and  valuing  facts  because  they  are  true,  rather  than  be- 
cause they  are  significant."' 

An  apt  quotation,  at  the  same  time  that  it  gives  to  a 
thought  the  weight  of  authority  and  perhaps  also  the 
charm  of  association,  suggests  what  many  additional 
words  would  not  fully  express.  Proverbs,  as  Emerson 
says,  "  give  us  pocket-editions  of  the  most  voluminous 
truths."^ 

A  suggestive  style  is  of  great  value  in  writings  ad- 
dressed to  the  feelings  or  the  imagination.  Wordsworth's 
"trampling  waves,"  for  example,  bring  before  us  the  sea 
in  a  storm :  — 

"And  this  huge  Castle,  standing  here  sublime, 
I  love  to  see  the  look  witli  wliicli  it  braves, 
Cased  in  the  unfeeling  armour  of  old  time, 
The  lightning,  the  fierce  wind,  and  trampling  waves."  ^ 

In  the  following  passage  the  words  "  an  awful  rose  of 
dawn  "  show  the  early  morning  in  all  its  grandeur :  — 

"I  saw  that  every  morning,  far  withdrawn 
Beyond  the  darkness  and  the  cataract, 
God  made  Himself  an  awful  rose  of  dawn, 
Unheeded."  < 

Browning  at  his  best  is  a  master  of  the  suggestive  style. 
In  "  My  Last  Duchess,"  for  example,  how  much  is  told  in 
a  few  lines !     Another  example  is :  — 

1  E.  J.  Payne:  Introduction  to  Burke's  "  Select  "Works." 

2  Emerson:  Expression.     The  Atlantic  Monthly,  November,  ISfiO. 

8  Wordsworth :  Elegiac  Stanzas,  suggested  by  a  Picture  of  Peele  Castle 
in  a  Storm. 

*  Tennyson ;  The  Vision  of  Sin. 


NUMBER   OF   WORDS.  171 

"Ah,  did  you  once  see  Shelley  plain, 
Aud  did  he  stop  and  speak  to  you  ? 
And  did  you  speak  to  him  again  1 
How  strange  it  seems,  and  new ! 

"But  you  were  living  before  that. 
And  you  are  living  after, 
And  the  memory  I  started  at  — 
My  starting  moves  your  laughter! 

"  I  crossed  a  moor  with  a  name  of  its  own 

And  a  use  in  the  world  no  doubt, 

Yet  a  hand's-breadth  of  it  shines  alone 

'Mid  the  blank  miles  round  about. 

"For  there  I  picked  up  on  the  heather 
And  there  I  put  inside  my  breast 
A  moulted  feather,  an  eagle-feather  — 
Well,  I  forget  the  rest."  ^ 

Akin  to  a  suggestive  style  is  that  kind  of  writing  which 
convinces  the   reader   that  the  author  knows  and  feels 
much    more    than    he    has    expressed,  —  tliat,  F^rce  in 
instead  of  "  letting  himself  go,"  he  is  holding  ''^^^"«- 
himself  back  for  fear  that  he  may  overstep  the  bounds  of 
truth  in  substance  or  of  temperance  in  language. 

A  story  told  of  the  great  orator,  John  Bright,  will  show 
how  moderation  in  expression  may  indicate  power  held  in 
reserve. 

"  He  [John  Bright]  never  spoke  beyond  his  strength.  The  only- 
effort —  and  this  sometimes  produced  an  immense  impression  — 
•was,  not  to  give  the  most  intense  and  energetic  expression  to  his 
passion,  but  to  restrain  it.  However  fierce  were  his  denunciations 
of  a  great  injustice  his  audience  felt  that  behind  the  terrible  ana:' 
fiery  words  there  were  the  fires  of  a  fiercer  wrath  which  he  was 
struggling  hard  to  subdue.  This  reserve,  which  was  akin  to  the 
austerity  of  his  personal  character,  gave  elevation  to  his  speeches. 
He  always  retained  his  self-command.  .  .  .  This  restraint  w-as  not 
apparent  merely,  it  was  real.     He  was  speaking  in  Birmingham 

1  Brownin'j:  Memorabilia. 


172  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

just  after  the  appearance  of  the  famous  '  Bath  letter '  of  Mr. 
Disraeli,  in  which  the  Conservative  leader  said  that  for  nearly  five 
years  All'.  Gladstone  had  '  harassed  every  tiade,  vvori-ied  every  pro- 
fession, and  assailed  or  menaced  every  class,  institution,  and  species 
of  property  in  the  country.'  In  his  speech  Mr.  Bright  referred  to 
the  Tories  and  to  the  letter  of  Mr.  Disraeli  in  the  following  words . 
'Without  doubt,  if  they  had  been  in  the  Wilderness  they  would 
have  condemned  the  Ten  Commandments  as  a  harassing  piece  of 
legislation,  though  it  does  happen  that  we  have  the  evidence  of 
more  than  thirty  centuries  to  the  wisdom  and  usefulness  of  those 
commandments.'  This  was  very  effective.  But  the  next  morning 
I  was  travelling  with  Mr.  Blight,  and  he  told  me  the  form  in  which 
the  passage  had  first  occurred  to  him  ;  it  was  positively  fierce, 
not  to  say  savage.  He  added,  '  I  thought  that  1  had  better  not 
put  it  so,'  and  I  agreed  with  him."  ^ 

Of  this  kind  of  force  Mark  Antony's  speech  in  Shaks- 
pere's  "Julius  Caesar"  and  Liucolu's  speech  at  Gettysburg 
are  familiar  examples.  Noteworthy  for  studious  mod- 
eration are  the  words  with  which  Webster  began  his 
appeal  on  behalf  of  Dartmouth  College,  —  "  It  is,  sir,  as  I 
have  said,  a  small  college,  and  yet  there  are  those  who 
love  it,"-  —  words  that,  delivered  as  Webster  delivered 
them,  strongly  affected  every  one  in  the  court-room, 
including  Chief  Justice  Marshall  and  his  associates  on 
the  bench. 

Other  examples  of  the  force  of  reserve  are :  — 

■'What,  tlien,  did  the  College  do  to  justify  our  speaking  of  the 
war  now?  She  sent  a  few  gentlemen  into  the  field,  who  died  there 
becomingly.  I  know  of  nothing  more.  The  great  forces  which 
msured  the  North  success  would  have  been  at  work  even  if  those 
men  had  been  absent.  Our  means  of  raising  money  and  troops 
would  not  have  been  less,  I  dare  say.  The  great  qualities  of  the 
race,  too,  would  still  have  been  there.    The  greatest  qualities,  after 

I  R.  W.  Dale:  Mr.  Brif:jht.     The  Contemporary  Review,  May,  1889. 
'  Daniel  Webster:  The  Dartmouth  College  Case,  March  10,  1818. 


NUMBER  OF   WOTiDS.  173 

all,  are  those  of  a  man,  not  those  of  a  gentleman,  and  neither  North 
nor  South  needed  colleges  to  learn  them.  And  yet  —  and  yet  I 
think  we  all  feel  that  to  us  at  least  the  war  would  seem  less  beau- 
tiful and  inspiring  if  those  few  gentlemen  had  not  died  as  they 
did.  Look  at  yonder  portrait  ^  and  yonder  bust,i  and  tell  me  if 
stories  such  as  they  commemorate  do  not  iidd  a  glory  to  the  bare 
fact  that  the  strongest  legions  prevailed.  So  it  has  been  since 
wars  began.  After  history  has  done  its  best  to  fix  men's  thoughts 
upon  strategy  and  finance,  their  eyes  have  turned  and  rested  on 
some  single  romantic  figure,  —  some  Sidney,  some  Falkland,  some 
Wolfe,  some  Montcalm,  some  Shaw.  This  is  that  little  touch  of 
the  superfluous  which  is  necessary.  Necessary  as  art  is  necessary, 
and  knowledge  which  serves  no  mechanical  end.  Superfluous 
only  as  glory  is  superfluous,  or  a  bit  of  red  ribbon  that  a  man 
would  die  to  win."^ 

"  We  took  two  rails  from  a  neighboring  fence,  and  formed  a 
bier  by  laying  across  some  board-s  fiom  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
And  thus  we  bore  Zenobia  homeward.  Six  hours  before,  how 
beautiful !     At  midnight,  what  a  horror  !  "  ^ 

"  At  the  usual  evening  hour  the  chapel  bell  began  to  toll,  and 
Thomas  Newcome's  hands  outside  the  bed  feebly  beat  time.  And 
just  as  the  last  bell  struck,  a  peculiar  sweet  smile  shone  over  his 
face,  and  he  lifted  up  his  head  a  little,  and  quickly  said,  '  Adsum  ! ' 
and  fell  back.  It  was  the  word  we  used  at  school,  when  names 
were  called  ;  and  lo,  he,  whose  heart  was  as  that  of  a  little  child, 
had  answered  to  his  name,  and  stood  in  the  presence  of  The 
Master."  4 

"  Twenty  years  had  passed  since  Joey  ran  down  the  brae  to 
play.  Jess,  his  mother,  shook  her  staff  fondly  at  him.  A  cart 
rumbled  by,  the  driver  nodding  on  the  shaft.  It  rounded  the 
corner  and  stopped  suddenly,  and  then  a  woman  screamed.  A 
handful  of  men  carried  Joey's  dead  body  to  his  mother,  and  that 
was  the  tragedy  of  Jess's  life. 

1  The  portrait  referred  to  is  that  of  Colonel  Robert  Gould  Shaw ;  the 
bust,  that  of  Brigadier-General  Charles  Russell  Lowell. 

2  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  Junior:  Harvard  College  in  the  War;  An- 
swer to  a  toast  at  Harvard  University  Commencement,  June  25,  18S4. 

8  Hawthorne:  The  Blithedale  Romance,  chap,  xxvii. 
*  Thackeray  :  The  Newcomes,  chap.  Ixxx. 


174  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  Twenty  years  ago,  and  still  Jess  sat  at  the  window,  and  still  she 
heard  that  woman  scream."  ^ 

"  And  the  king  was  much  moved,  and  went  up  to  the  chamber 
over  the  gate,  and  wept :  and  as  he  went,  thus  he  said,  O  my  son 
Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  Absalom  !  would  God  I  had  died  £or 
thee,  O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  I  "  2 

In  trying  not  to  be  prolix,  one  should  beware  of  the 
opposite  extreme,  should  avoid  ellipses  difficult  to  bridge, 
Misplaced        coHipression  that  takes  the  life  out  of  language, 
revity.  laborlous  conciseness  of  every  kind.     These  are 

the  very  faults  into  which  a  verbose  writer  is  apt  to  fall ; 
for  when  such  a  writer,  impatient  of  his  slow  progress, 
tries  to  get  on  faster,  he  usually  succeeds  in  omitting,  not 
what  his  readers  know,  but  what  he  knows  best  himself, 
and  thus  sacrifices  clearness  to  misplaced  brevity. 

With  a  master  of  style,  on  the  other  hand,  every  word 
Details  that     ^.dds  to  the  effsct.    Take  a  single  example  from 

are  effective.       MiltOU  :  — 

"  From  morn 
To  noon  he  fell,  from  noon  to  dewy  eve, 
A  summer's  day,  and  with  the  setthig  sun 
Dropt  from  the  zenith,  like  a  falling  star."' 

"  What  art,"  .says  Webster,  "  is  manifest  in  these  few  lines  I 
The  object  is  to  express  great  distance,  and  great  velocity,  neither 
of  which  is  capable  of  very  easy  suggestion  to  the  human  mind. 
We  are  told  that  the  angel  fell  a  day,  a  long  summer's  day ;  the 
day  is  broken  into  forenoon  and  afternoon,  that  the  time  may 
seem  to  be  protracted.  He  does  not  reach  the  earth  till  sunset; 
and  then,  to  represent  the  velocity,  he  'drops,'  one  of  the  very 
best  words  in  the  language  to  signify  sudden  and  rapid  fall,  and 
then  comes  a  simile,  '  like  a  falling  star.'  "  * 

*  J.  M.  Barrie:  A  Window  in  Thrums,  chap.  vi. 
'  2  Samuel  xviii.  33. 

*  Milton :  Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  line  742. 

*  Daniel  Webster:  Private  Correspondence;  To  Rev.  Mr.  Brazer, 
Nov.  10,  1828. 


NUxMBER  OF  WORDS.  175 


SECTION  III. 

EASE. 

In  so  far  as  ease  is  affected  by  tlie  number  of  words, 
it  has  more  in  common  with  clearness  than  with  force; 
for  it  usually  suffers  from  excessive  conciseness  rather 
than  from  redundancy.  Authors  noted  for  force — George 
Eliot,  Browning,  Emerson  —  leave  gaps  for  their  readers 
to  snpply:  those  noted  for  ease  —  Goldsmith,  Irving, 
Cardinal  Newman  —  are  copious  rather  than  compact. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  ease,  the  shortest  woi'd,  sen- 
tence, or  paragraph  is  not  necessarily  the  best.  "Languor 
is,"  no  doubt,  "the  cause  or  the  effect  of  most  disorders;'" 
but  "  it  is  silly  to  argue  that  we  gain  ground  by  shoi-ten- 
ing  on  all  occasions  the  syllables  of  a  sentence.  Half  a 
minute,  if  indeed  so  much  is  requisite,  is  well  spent  in 
clearness,  in  fulness,  and  pleasurableness  of  expression, 
and  in  engaging  the  ear  to  carry  a  message  to  the  under- 
standing.'"' 

On  the  other  hand,  there  is  danger  in  making  ease  the 
primary  consideration  in  determining  the  number  of  words. 
So  long  as  a  writer  spends  his  time  "in  engaging  the  ear  to 

I  Landor:  Conversations,  Tliird  Series;  Soiitliey  and  Person. 

"^  Ibid. ;  Jolinson  and  Home  (Tooke).  Quintilian  has  a  sentence  to  the 
same  effect :  "  quod  inteliexerit,  ut  fortasse  ubique,  in  narratione  tamen 
praecipue  media  haec  tcnenda  sit  via  dicendi,  '  quantum  opus  est  et  quan- 
tum satis  est.'  qnantinn  opus  estautem  non  ita  solum  accipi  volo,  quantum 
ad  iiidicandum  sufFicit,  quia  non  inornata  debet  esse  brevitas,  alioqui  sit 
indocta;  nam  et  fallit  voluptns,  et  minus  longa  quae  delectant  videntur,  ut 
amoenum  ac  moiie  iter,  etiamsi  est  spatii  amplioris,  minus  fatigat  quam 
durum  aridumque  compendium." — Inst.  Orator,  iv.  ii.  xlv. 


176  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

carry  a  message  to  the  understanding,"  to  the  heart,  or  to 
the  imagniation,  he  spends  it  well ;  but  if,  by  multiply- 
ing words,  he  obscurei  the  meaniijg  of  the  "  message,"  or 
weakens  its  force,  he  purchases  ease  at  the  cost  of  things 
far  more  important. 


CHAPTER  TIT. 

AKKANGEMENT. 

Success  in  either  spoken  or  written  discourse  depends 
even  less  upon  choice  or  number  of  words  than  upon 
AEEANGEMENT.  In  a  theoretically  perfect  ar-  The  ideal 
rangement,  the  order  of  the  lanj^uage  would  ^"^"ge^^'^t- 
distinctly  indicate  the  relative  importance  of  each  con- 
stituent part  of  the  composition.  Of  such  an  arrange- 
ment no  human  language  is  susceptible ;  but  a  writer 
should  come  as  near  to  it  as  is  permitted  by  the  pecu- 
liarities of  the  language  in  which  he  writes. 

SECTION  I. 

CLEARNESS. 

Cleaeness  requires  that  the  words  and  the  groups  of 
words  which  are  near  to  one  another  in  thought  shall  be 
near  in  expression,  and  that  those  which  are  separate  in 
thought  shall  be  separate  in  expression.  A  writer  who 
conforms  to  this  principle  will  give  to  each  word  the 
position  that  shows  its  relation  to  other  words,  and  to 
each  part  of  a  sentence  the  position  that  shows  its  relation 
to  other  parts. 

Obscurity  may  be  caused  by  an  arrangement  that  puts 
a  pronoun  before  the  noun  which  it  represents,  position  of 
For  example :  —  pronouns. 

"  In  adjusting  his  rate  of  wages  for  the  future,  the  working  man 
should  realize  that  politics  does  not  enter  into  the  matter."* 

_,^  *  American  newspaper. 


178  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  He  had  just  failed  in  securing  a  house  there,  and  Coleridge's 
company  was  a  great  temptation  to  him,  as  that  of  her  sister  was 
to  his  wife."  ^ 

Occasionally  a  pronoun  may.  without  causing  obscurity, 
be  put  before  the  noun  wliich  it  represents :  — 

..."  illiterate  writers,  who  seize  and  twist  from  its  purpose 
some  form  of  speech  which  once  served  to  convey  briefly  and  com- 
pactly an  unambiguous  meaning."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  it  would  be  hard  to  change  the  position  of 
"  from  ?7s  purpose  "  withoul  causing  obscurity  or  clumsiness;  "its," 
moreover,  comes  so  near  to  "  some  form  of  speech,"  that  the  reader 
catches  the  meaning  at  ouije. 

Obscurity  is  caused  by  neglect  of  the  rule  that  con- 
nectives of  the  class  known  to  grammarians  as  "corre- 
Position  of       spondents  "  —  such  as  not  only,  hut  also  ;  either, 

correspond-  ,  ,  ., 

ents.  or;  neither,  nor ;  both,  and ;  on  the  one  hand, 

on  the  other  hand  —  should  be  so  placed  as  to  show  what 
words  they  connect.     For  example  :  — 

"  Lothair  was  unaffectedly  gratified  at  not  only  receiving  his 
friends  at  his  own  castle,  but  under  these  circumstances  of  inti- 
macy." * 

"  They  were  a  family  which  not  only  had  the  art  of  accumulating 
wealth,  but  of  expending  it  with  taste  and  generosity."  * 

"  This  effeminate  tone  comes  from  the  fact  that  the  plays  were 
written  not  to  please  the  common  people  but  the  dissolute  court."  ^ 

"I  neither  estimated  myself  highly  nor  lowly."  ^ 

.  .  .  "he  neither  attempted  to  excite  anger,  nor  ridicule,  nor 
admiration." '' 

1  Mrs.  Oliphant :  The  Literary  History  of  the  Eighteenth  and  Nine- 
teenth Centuries,  vol.  i.  chap.  viii. 

2  J.  S.  Mill:  A  System  of  Logic,  book  iv.  chap.  v.  sect.  iii.  Not  in 
some  editions. 

8  Disraeli :  Lothair,  chap,  xxxix. 

*  Ibid.:  Endymion,  chap   xxxviii.  ^  Student's  theme. 

*  J.  S.  Mill:  Autobiography,  chap.  i. 

'  Lord  Dalliiig  and  Buhver :  Sir  Kobert  Peel,  part  ii.  sect  ii. 


ARRANGEMENT.  179 

Obscurity  is  caused  by  placing  subordinate  expressions 
where  they  do  not  show  at  once  with  what   Position  of 

J  J*  1        1  subordinate 

words  or  groups  ot  words  they  are  connected,     expressions. 

In  each  of  the  following  sentences  an  adverb  is  out  of 
place : — 

"  All  criminals  are  not  guilty."  ' 

"  Whatever  qualities  he  himself,  probably,  had  acquired  without 
difficulty  or  special  training,  he  seems  to  have  supposed  that  I 
ought  to  acquire  as  easily." ^ 

. .  .  "  he  recovered  his  harquebuss  without  almost  knowing  what 
he  did." 8 

"  He  was  about  to  go  on,  when  he  perceived,  from  her  quivering 
eye  and  pallid  cheek,  that  nothing  less  than  imposture  was  in- 
tended." * 

"  In  painting  and  in  sculpture  it  is  now  past  disputing,  that  if 
we  are  destined  to  inferiority  at  all,  it  is  an  inferiority  only  to  the 
Italians  and  the  ancient  Greeks ;  an  inferiority  which,  if  it  were 
even  sure  to  be  permanent,  we  share  with  all  the  other  malicious 
nations  around  us."  ^ 

In  each  of  the  following  sentences  a  phrase  or  a  clause 
is  out  of  place :  — 

"  A  strong  man's  will  tends  to  create  a  will  in  the  same  direction 
in  others."  ^ 

"  The  scale  was  turned  in  its  favour  by  a  speech  which  ranks 
among  the  masterpieces  of  American  oratory /ro?«  Fisher  Amex."^ 

"  Miss  Meadowcrof t  searched  the  newspapers  for  tidings  of  the 
living  John  Jago  in  the  privacy  of  her  own  room."'' 

"  Although  Madame  Clermont  had,  as  I  knew,  lost  most  of  the 
money  which  Shelley  had  left  her  in  the  Lumley^s  Italian  Opera 

1  Student's  theme. 

2  J.  S.  Mill :  Autobiography,  chap.  i. 

'  Scott :  Quentin  Durward,  vol.  i.  chap.  x. 

*  Ibid. :  Old  Mortality,  vol.  ii.  chap.  ii. 

*  De  Quincey.  Essay  on  Style. 

«  Goldwin  Smith  :  The  United  States,  chap.  Hi. 
'  WUkie  Collins  :  The  Dead  Alive,  chap.  x. 


180  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

House  dhasfer,  yet  she  had  evidently  still  sufficient  to  keep  her  in 
perfect  comfort,  and  even  luxury."  ^ 

"  She  wore  a  diamond  pin  in  Iter  hair  which  was  bought  in 
Paris."  2 

"  Under  such  circumstances,  the  poor  woman,  amid  her  cares, 
may  be  excused  if  she  looked  back  a  little  wistfully  at  Lucilla 
going  home  all  comfortable  and  independent  and  light-hearted, 
with  no  cares,  nor  anybody  to  go  on  at  her,  in  her  sealskin  coal.'"  ^ 

"  And  it  was  with  this  sense  of  certainty  that  she  put  on  her 
bonnet  and  issued  forth,  though  it  snowed  a  little,  and  was  a  very 
wintry  day,  on  Mr.  Asliburlons  behalf,  to  try  her  fortune  in  Grange 
Lane."^ 

"  In  a  few  moments  more,  he  was  mounted  on  a  fine  powerful 
black  horse,  and  followed  by  Sampson,  on  his  road  to  London.'"  * 

"Though  they  [the  Lords]  have  been  very  far  from  a  uniformly 
sagacious  assembly,  take  them  all  in  all,  yet  the  English  people  are 
certainly  very  unlikely  to  decide  in  favour  of  a  constitutional  revolu- 
tion which  would  have  made  the  very  hair  of  the  American  conscript 
fathers  stand  on  end  more  than  a  century  ago,  at  its  utter  folly  and 
rashness."  ^ 

"  Her  slings  and  arrows,  numerous  as  they  were  and  outrageous, 
were  directed  against  such  petty  objects,  and  the  mischief  was  so 
quick  in  its  aim  and  its  operation,  that,  felt  but  not  seen,  it  is 
scarcely  possible  to  register  the  hits,  or  to  describe  the  nature  of 
the  wounds."  ^ 

"  Forty  years  ago,  there  was  assuredly  no  spot  of  ground,  out  oj 
Palestine,  in  all  the  round  world,  on  which,  if  you  knew,  even  but  a 
little,  the  true  course  of  that  world's  history,  you  saw  with  so 
much  joyful  reverence  the  dawn  of  morning,  as  at  the  foot  of  the 
Tower  of  Giotto."' 

1  William  Graham :  Chats  with  Jane  Clermont.  The  Nineteenth 
Century,  NovoniUer,  1893,  p.  7.56. 

2  American  newspaper. 

3  Mr.s-  ('lip^iant:  Miss  Marjoribanks,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xii.  Tauchnitz 
edition. 

*  Captain  Marryat :  The  Children  of  the  New  Forest,  chap.  xxi. 

6  Tiie  [London]  Spectator,  June  23,  1894,  p.  844. 

8  Miss  Edgeworth  :  The  Absentee,  chap   iii. 

'  Raskin:  Mornings  in  Florence  ;  The  Shepherd's  Tower. 


ARRANGEMENT  181 

"Mr.  Collins  and  Charlotte  appeared  at  the  door;  and  the  car- 
riage stopped  at  the  small  gate,  which  led  by  a  short  gravel  walk 
to  the  house,  amidst  the  norh  and  smiles  nf  the  whole  parly."  ^ 

"  Obliged  to  part  with  their  effects  at  the  lowest  prices,  the  Jews 
sadly  departed,  arniW  the  execrations  of  the  people,  and'^  bearing  away 
little  but  their  destitute  luives  and  children,  from  the  scenes  of  their 
birth  and  infancy."  ^ 

"  The  farce  had  now  turned  to  tragedy  which  found  swift  com- 
pletion in  the  total  destruction  of  the  colonists,  who  were  massa- 
cred by  the  friends  of  the  dead  chief  while  at  toork  in  the  field"  * 

"  I  .  .  .  found  it  [the  manuscript  of  "  Waverley  "]  again  by  mere 
accident  among  other  waste  papers  in  an  old  cabinet,  the  drawers 
of  which  I  was  rummaging,  in  order  to  accommodate  a  friend  with 
some  fishing  tackle,  after  it  had  been  mi.slaiil  for  seoeral  years."  ^ 

..."  this  was  what  the  middle-aged  married  woman  felt  who 
had,  as  may  he  said,  tioo  men  to  carry  on  her  shoulders,  as  she  went 
anxiously  down  Grange  Lane  to  conciliate  Mrs.  Centum,  wrap- 
ping her  shawl  about  her,  and  feeling  the  light  snow  melt  beneath 
her  feet,  and  the  cold  and  discomfort  go  to  her  heart."  * 

In  each  of  the  following  sentences  a  phrase  or  a  clause 
has  what  is  called  a  "  squinting  "  construction,  that  is,  it 
looks  two  ways :  — 

"  The  smooth  monotony  of  the  leading  religious  topics,  as  man- 
aged by  the  French  orators,  under  the  treatment  of  Jeremy  Taylor, 
receives  at  each  turn  of  the  sentence  a  new  flexure."^ 

"They  attire  themselves  accordingly  for  what  they  may  expect, 
and  except  for  any  native  nobility  in  their  air,  in  their  heavy  hoots 
and  sensible  shooting  suits,  are  scarcely  to  be  distinguished  from  the 
keepers  in  attendance."  ^ 

1  Miss  Austen:  Pride  and  Prejudice,  vol.  i.  chap,  xxviii. 

2  See  pages  139,  140. 

8  Henry  H.  Milman :  The  History  of  the  Jews,  vol.  ili.  book  xxir. 

*  American  magazine. 

*  Scott:   Waverley,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xliii. 

s  Mrs.  Oliphant:  Miss  Marjoribanks,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xii.  Tauchnit2 
edition.  , 

^  De  Quincey:  Essay  on  Rhetoric. 
8  The  Pall  Mall  Budget  (1875). 


182  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

...  "he  then  departed,  to  make  himself  still  more  interesting,  in 
the  midst  of  a  heavy  rain."  ^ 

"  Owen,  hovering  betwixt  his  respect  for  his  patron,  and  his  love 
for  the  youth  he  had  dandled  on  his  knee  in  childhood,  like  the  tim- 
orous, yet  anxious  ally  of  an  invaded  nation,  endeavoured  at  every 
blunder  I  made  to  explain  my  no-meaning."  2 

"  The  young  mind,  to  which  growth  is  as  natural  as  it  is  to  the 
young  body,  if  it  has  any  of  that  irrepressible,  unconsciotis  elasticity, 
which  is  the  main  characteristic  of  its  divine  remoteness  from  age,  will 
never  acquiesce  in  a  limitation  it  sees."  » 

Each  of  the  following  sentences  is  so  badly  constructed 
that  a  mere  change  in  the  position  of  a  phrase  or  a  clause 
will  not  remove  the  obscurity ;  to  cure  the  difficulty  the 
sentence  must  be  recast: — 

"  Except  in  dealing  with  foreign  policy,  Lord  Beaconsfield  has  of 
all  other  subjects  most  thoroughly  mastered  the  management  of  a 
party  and  the  conduct  of  Parliamentary  business."  * 

"The  vague  and  unsettled  suspicions  which  uncertainty  had 
produced  of  what  Mr,  Darcy  might  have  been  doing  to  forward 
her  sister's  match  which  she  had  feared  to  encourage,  as  an  exer- 
tion of  goodness  too  great  to  be  probable,  and  at  the  same  time 
dreaded  to  be  just,  from  the  pain  of  obligation,  were  proved  beyond 
their  greatest  extent  to  be  true  !  "  ^ 

"  Perhaps  at  some  future  time  I  may  be  inclined  to  give  some  of 
these  dialogues  to  the  world  ;  for  if  she  did  not  note  them  down  at 
the  time,  I  certainly  did  so  as  they  came  from  her  lips  on  return- 
ing each  evening  to  my  own  abode,  with  the  words  fresh  in  my 
memory,  and  showed  her  the  following  day  what  I  had  written,"  « 

"  There  was  not  a  soul  to  be  seen  in  Grange  Lane  at  that  mo- 
ment in  the  snow,  which  came  on  faster  and  faster,  but  one  of 

1  Miss  Austen :  Sense  and  Sensibility,  vol.  i.  chap.  ix. 

2  Scott :  Rob  Roy,  vol.  i.  chap.  i. 

'  E.  F.  Benson:  The  Rubicon,  book  ii.  chnp.  iv. 
*  The  Saturday  Review,  Aug.  16,  1879,  p.  191, 
6  Miss  Austen :  Pride  and  Prejudice,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xix, 
6  William  Graham  :  Chats  with  Jane  Clermont.    The  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, November,  1893,  p,  763. 


ARRANGEMENT.  183 

Mr.  Wentworth's  (who  at  that  time  was  new  in  St.  Roque's)  grey 
sisters,  and  another  lady  who  was  coming  down,  as  quickly  as 
Lucilla  was  going  up,  by  the  long  line  of  garden-walls."  ^ 

"Observe,"  says  Blair,  "  the  arrangement  of  the  following  sen- 
tence in  Lord  Shaftesbury's  Advice  to  an  Author.  He  is  speaking 
of  modern  poets,  as  compared  with  the  ancient :  '  If,  whilst  they 
profess  only  ^  to  please,  they  secretly  advise,  and  give  instruction, 
they  may  now,  perhaps,  as  well  as  formerly,  be  esteemed,  with 
justice,  the  best  and  most  honourable  among  authors.'  This  is  a 
well  constructed  sentence.  It  contains  a  great  many  circumstances 
and  adverbs,  necessary  to  qualify  the  meaning ;  only,  secretly,  as 
well,  perhaps,  now,  with  justice,  formerly ;  yet  these  are  placed  with 
so  much  art,  as  neither  to  embarrass,  nor  ^  weaken  the  sentence ; 
while  that  which  is  the  capital  object  in  it,  viz.,  '  Poets  being 
justly  esteemed  the  best  and  most  honourable  among  authors,' 
comes  out  in  the  conclusion  clear  and  detached,  and  possesses  its 
proper  place.  See,  now,  what  would  have  been  the  effect  of  a  dif- 
ferent arrangement.  Suppose  him  to  have  placed  the  members  of 
the  sentence  thus  :  '  If,  whilst  they  profess  to  please  only,  they 
advise  and  give  instruction  secretly,  they  may  be  esteemed  the 
best  and  most  honourable  among  authors,  with  justice,  perhaps, 
now,  as  well  as  formerly.'  Here  we  have  precisely  the  same  words 
and  the  same  sense  :  but,  by  means  of  the  circumstances  being  so 
intermingled  as  to  clog  the  capital  words,  the  whole  becomes  per- 
plexed, without  grace,  and  without  strength."  * 

The  effect  of  putting  subordinate  words  in  obscure  posi- 
tions is  to  leave  important  words  where  they  are  "  clear 
and  disentangled  from  any  other  words  that  would  clog 
them,"*  —  a  great  advantage  to  clearness;  for  words  so 
placed  hold  the  attention.  The  advantage  to  force  is  still 
greater. 

1  Mrs.  Oliphant:  Miss  Marjoribanks,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xii  Tauchnitz 
eJition. 

2  Is  this,  all  things  considered,  the  best  place  for  onlyf 
8  Is  a  word  wanting  here  '? 

*  Blair :  Lectures  on  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii. 


184  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 


SECTION  n. 

FORCE. 

FoECE  requires  that  the  most  important  word  or  words 

in  a  sentence  —  the  "  capital "  words,  as  Blair  calls  them  — 

Important  shall  be  put  wherc  they  will  make  the  strong- 
words  in  em-  ^  -j  o 

phatic  places,  est  impression.  That  place  will  usually  be 
either  at  the  beginning  or  at  the  end.  On  this  point  no 
rules  can  be  given ;  for  the  question  is  affected  by  many 
considerations,  —  considerations  drawn  from  the  charac- 
ter of  the  sentence  in  hand,  from  its  relations  with  other 
sentences  in  the  paragraph,  from  the  nature  of  the  subject- 
matter,  and  from  the  capacity  of  the  persons  addressed. 

The  application  of  the  general  principle  which  requires 
that  important  words  shall  be  put  in  emphatic  places  is, 
Limitation  on    morcover,  restricted  by  a  grammatical  limita- 

the  Engli.?h  .  " 

arrangement,  tiou  upou  the  Eiiglisli  arrangement  as  com- 
pared with  the  Latin.  In  a  language  like  the  Latin,  in 
which  the  subject  and  the  object  of  the  verb  are  readily 
distinguished  by  their  terminations,  their  relative  posi- 
tions may  be  changed  at  will ;  but  in  languages  in  which 
the  subject  and  the  object  are,  for  the  most  part,  the  same 
in  form,  the  order  is  always  an  important  and  sometimes 
a  necessary  means  of  distinguishing  them. 

In  Latin,  it  is  possible  to  arrange  in  six  different  ways, 
each  with  a  meaning  of  its  own,  the  three  words  signify- 
ing that. Nero  killed  Agrippina:  Nero  inUr fecit  Agrip-^ 
pinam  ;  Agrippinam  interfecit  Nero ;  Nero  Agrippinam 
interfecit ;  Agrippinam  Nero  interfecit;  interfecit  Nero 
Agrippinam ;  interfecit  Agrippinam  Nero.     In  English, 


ARRANGEMENT.  185 

the  only  way  in  which  these  differences  of  meaning  can  be 
expressed  is  by  a  circumlocution.  Thus  we  may  fix  atten- 
tion upon  the  murderer  by  saying,  "  It  was  Nero  who  killed 
Agrippina : "  in  this  sentence,  the  words  "  it  was  "  are  like 
a  hand  pointing  to  Nero.  Again,  we  may  fix  attention  on 
the  person  murdered  by  saying,  "  It  was  Agrippina  whom 
Nero  killed : "  in  this  sentence,  the  hand  points  to  Agrip- 
pina. Again,  we  may  fix  attention  on  the  murder  by 
saying,  "  For  Nero's  crime  against  Agrippina  the  only 
word  is  murder." 

A  simple  illustration  -like  that  just  given  is  sufficient 
to  show  that  the  usual  English  order  —  subject  first,  then 
verb,  then  obiect  —  is  not  necessarily  the  nat-  The  usual 

'  •'  "  order  not  al- 

ural  or  the  logical  order.  In  many  cases,  no  ways  the  best. 
doubt,  it  is  natural  to  put  the  grammatical  subject  first ; 
but  in  other  cases  it  is  equally  natural  to  begin  with  the 
predicate  or  with  a  part  of  the  predicate.  The  homely 
proverb,  "  Nearest  the  heart,  nearest  the  mouth,"  dictates 
the  arrangement  of  many  sentences,  whether  in  speech  or 
in  writing.     For  example :  — • 

"Now  is  your  time."  "Such  a  ahnw  I  never  saw  before." 
"Wliat  a  good  ride  vce  had  !  "  "  Hnw  glad  I  am  to  see  you !  "  "  Up 
he  jumped."  "  Down  dropped  the  thermometer."  "  There  goea  the 
express !  "  "Not  once  was  he  defeated."  -'  Last  of  all  marched  the 
Seventh  Regiment."    "  Him  they  did  n't  care  for."     "  Go  he  shall." 

Between  these  examples  from  every-day  conversation  and  the 
following  from  good  authors,  there  is,  as  regards  arrangement,  no 
appreciable  difference  :  — 

"  He  had  come  there  to  speak  to  her,  and  speak  to  her  he 
would."! 

"  Her  plan  was  to  set  the  people  by  the  ears  talking,  if  talk  they 
would."  2 

"  Her  it  was  his  custom  to  visit  early  in  the  afternoon."  » 

1  Anthony  Trollope  :  Framley  Parsonage,  vol.  i.  chap.  xvi.  Tauch- 
nitz  edition.  *  Ibid.,  chap.  xvii.  *  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xr. 


186  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"  Him  Heaven  had  kneaded  of  much  more  potent  stuff."  i 
"  How  Gann  and  his  family  lived  after  their  stroke  of  misfortune^ 
I  know  not."  ^ 

"  On  the  wire  window-blind  of  the  parlour  was  tvritten,  in  large 
characters,  the  word  Office  ;  and  here  it  was  that  Gann's  services 
came  into  play."  2 

"  Since  I  was  man, 
Such  sheets  off  re,  such  bursts  of  horrid  thunder. 
Such  groans  of  roaring  wind  and  rain,  I  never 
Remember  to  have  heard."  ^ 

"  Now  is  the  winter  of  our  discontent 
Made  glorious  summer  by  this  sun  of  York."* 

"  Not  in  the  legions 
Of  horrid  hell  can  come  a  devil  more  damn'd 
In  evils  to  top  Macbeth."  ^ 

"So  spake  the  apostate  Angel,  though  in  pain."' 

"  Before  tlie  gates  there  sat 
On  either  side  a  formidable  Shape."  ^ 

"  Me  only  cruel  immortality 
Consumes."  ^ 

"  So  died  Earl  Doorm  by  him  he  counted  dead."' 

"  Bound  for  the  Hall,  I  am  sure  was  he."i** 

"  Flash'd  all  their  sabres  bare."  i^ 

"  Out  burst  all  with  one  accord."  1* 

These  examples  show  some  of  the  ways  in  which  the  usual  Eng- 
lish order  may  be  departed  from  without  transgressing  the  rules  of 
the  language.  Most  of  them  illustrate  the  fact  that  the  emphatic 
position  in  a  sentence  may  be  at  the  beginning. 

*  Carlyle  :  History  of  Frederick  the  Great,  book  i.  chap.  ii. 
2  Thackeray :  A  Shabby  Genteel  Story,  chap.  i. 

'  Shakspere  :  King  Lear,  act  iii.  scene  ii. 

*  Ibid. :  Richard  III.,  act  i.  scene  i. 
6  Ibid. :  Macbeth,  act  iv.  scene  iii. 

«  Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  book  i.  line  125.         7  Ibid.,  book  ii.  line  648 
8  Tennyson :  Tithonus.  9  Ibid. :  Geraint  and  Enid 

W  Ibid. :  Maud.  "  Ibid. ;  The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade, 

^  Browning :  Herv^  Rial. 


ARRANGEMENT  187 

The  fault  of  beginning  a  sentence  with  an  expression 
which  shoukl  occupy  a  subordinate  position  is  frequently 
committed  by  inexperienced  writers,  and  some-  ^eak  begin- 
times  by  writers  of  experience.  ^^^^' 

"  I  think  the  delight  that  many  people  take  in  this  game  is  an 
indication  that  the  bloodthirsty  sporting-instinct  of  our  Roman 
ancestors  is  not  killed,  but  only  restrained  by  centuries  of  law, 
and  by  a  sense  of  obligation  to  our  fellow-men."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  the  unimportant  words  "  1  think  "  hold  too 
prominent  a  position.  A  better  arrangement  is,  "  The  delight 
that  many  people  take  in  this  game  is,  I  think,  an  indication,"  etc. 
By  this  arrangement  the  important  words  are  made  prominent  and 
the  unimportant  sink  into  a  secondary  position. 

"  It  is  not  probable,  judging  from  all  Asiatic  history,  that  Abbas 
II.  will  content  himself  long  merely  with  being  sulky."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  the  words  "  it  is  not  probable  "  are  of  least 
importance.  "  Judging  from  aU  Asiatic  history  "  should  begin  the 
sentence. 

Objectionable  as  weak  beginnings  are,  weak  endings  are 
worse.  In  order  to  make  an  easy  transition  from  what 
precedes,  or  to  prepare  the  reader  for  what  is 

„    ,,  .  ,  J       1         •  Weak  endings. 

to  follow,  it  may  be  necessary  to  begin  a  sen- 
tence with  an  unimportant  expression ;  but  it  is  seldom 
necessary  to  end  one  ineffectively.  It  may  be  desirable 
to  lead  up  from  a  weak  beginning ;  but  it  is  rarely  if  ever 
desirable  —  in  serious  composition,  at  least  —  to  lead  down 
to  a  weak  ending. 

"Marshal  Canrobert  denies  the  report  that  he  is  about  to  pub- 
lish his  memoirs,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  some  people."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  the  unimportant  words  "  much  to  the  satisfac- 
tion of  some  people  "  make  a  weak  ending.  A  more  forcible  ar- 
rangement is,  "  Much  to  the  satisfaction  of  some  people,  Marshal 

1  Student's  theme. 

2  The  [London)  Spectator,  Feb.  10,  1894,  p.  181. 
*  American  newspaper. 


188  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

Canrobert  denies  the  report  that  he  is  about  to  publish  his  me- 
moirs," —  an  arrangement  which  places  unimportant  words  at  the 
beginning  of  the  sentence  in  order  to  bring  the  important  words  to 
the  end. 

In  each  of  the  following  examples,  the  italicized  words 
should  end  the  sentence :  — 

"  He  would  offer  it  to  him  gently  or  give  it  to  him  little  by 
little;  but  he  could  never  be  guilty  of  rudeness  for  a  moment."  ^ 

"  The  Queen  of  the  Ansarey  listened  with  deep  and  agitated  atten- 
tion to  Tancred."  '^ 

"  The  Indian  view,  that  it  would  be  possible  to  attack  Russia  at 
Herat,  is  one  which  seems  to  me  still  less  tenable,  even  supposing  that 
the  Afghan  tribes  were  friendly  and  anxious  to  provide  us  with 
supplies."  8 

In  each  of  the  following  examples,  changes  in  phraseol- 
ogy are  necessary  in  order  to  bring  the  italicized  words  to 
the  end  of  the  sentence :  — 

"  Now  and  then  a  roar  from  an  inner  room  announces  that  the 
lions  and  tigers  are  there  if  no  one  else  is."  * 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  our  transport  in  India  is  still  defective, 
although  immense  progress  has  been  made  since  Sir  Frederick 
Roberts  has  held  command  and  been  assisted  in  this  matter  by 
his  late  Quartermaster-General  and  by  General  Chesney."^ 

"  Upon  inspecting  this  paper,  Colonel  Mannering  instantly  ad- 
mitted it  was  his  own  composition,  and  afforded  the  strongest  and 
most  satisfactory  evidence,  that  the  possessor  of  it  must  necessarily 
be  the  young  heir  of  Ellangoivan,  by  avowing  his  having  first  appeared 
in  that  country  in  the  character  of  an  astrologer."  * 

Force,  as  well  as  clearness,  may  often  be  gained  by 
ANTITHESIS,^  —  the  Setting  over  against   each   other   of 

*  Student's  theme. 

2  Disraeli :  Tancred,  book  vi.  chap.  iii. 

8  Sir  Cliarles  W.  Dilke :  Problems  of  Greater  Britain,  part  iv.  chap.  i. 

*  American  magazine.  6  British  periodical. 

*  Scott:  Gny  Mannering,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xxvii. 
'  From  avTiTldrifju,  set  opposite. 


ARRANGEMENT.  189 

contrasted  or  opposed  ideas  expressed  in  language  that 
brings  out  the  contrast  most  forcibly,  word  correspond- 
ing to  word,  clause  to  clause,  construction  to 

.  r^^■l  •       •    i        •         t  Antithesis. 

construction,     ihe  principle   is  the   same   as 
that  which  makes  a  white  object  appear  whiter  and  a 
black  one  blacker  if  the  two  are  placed  side  by  side.     For 
example :  — 

"  Measures,  not  men."  "  Words  are  the  counters  of  tcise  men,  and 
the  money  of  fools."  ^  "When  reason  is  ayainsl  a  man,  he  will  be 
against  reason."  ^  "  I  do  not  live  to  eat,  but  eat  to  lice."'^  "  Party 
is  the  madness  of  many,  for  the  gain  of  a  few."^  "  A  proverb  is  the 
wisdom  of  many  and  the  wit  of  one." 

"  Here  lies  our  good  Edmund,*  whose  genius  was  such. 
We  scarcely  can  praise  it  or  blame  it  too  much; 
Who,  born  for  the  universe,  narrow'd  his  mind, 
And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind."  ^ 

.  Examples  of  effective  antithesis  are  given  in  the  follow- 
ing passages :  — 

"  Wherein  I  suffer  trouble,  as  an  evil  doer,  even  unto  bonds ; 
but  the  word  of  God  is  not  bound." « 

" '  He  says  I  don't  understand  my  time.  I  understand  it  cer- 
tainly better  than  he,  who  can  neither  abolish  himself  as  a  nuisance 
nor  maintain  himself  as  an  institution.'  "  ' 

"  They  work  to  pass,  not  to  know ;  and  outraged  Science  takes 
her  revenge.     They  do  pass,  and  they  don't  know."  » 

"  A  man  in  the  right  relies  easily  on  his  rectitude,  and  therefore 
goes  about  unarmed.  His  very  strength  is  his  weakness.  A  man 
in  the  wrong  knows  that  he  must  look  to  his  weapons ;  his  very 

1  Thomas  Hobbes. 

2  Edere  oportet  ut  vivas,  non  vivere  ut  edas.  —  Cicero :  Ad  Ilerennium. 
8  Pope :  Thoughts  on  Various  Sul)jects.  *  Edmund  Burke. 

5  Goldsmith :  Retaliation.  This  poem  is  full  of  antitheses.  See  also 
Pope  and  Dryden  {passim). 

6  2  Timothy  ii.  9. 

7  Henry  James ;  The  Portrait  of  a  Lady,  chap.  viii. 

8  Huxley:  Science  and  Culture;  Universities  Actual  and  Ideal 


190  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

weakness  is  his  strength.  The  one  is  never  prepared  for  combat, 
the  other  is  always  ready.  Therefore  it  is  that  in  this  world  the 
man  tliat  is  in  the  wrong  almost  invariably  conquers  the  man  that 
is  in  the  right,  and  invariably  despises  him."  ^ 

"But  after  every  allowance,  it  will  remain  that  members  of  the 
government  which  preceded  the  administration  opened  the  gates 
to  treason,  and  he  closed  them ;  that  when  he  went  to  Washington 
the  ground  on  which  he  trod  shook  under  his  feet,  and  he  left  the 
republic  on  a  solid  foundation  ;  that  traitors  had  seized  public 
forts  and  arsenals,  and  he  recovered  them  for  the  United  States, 
to  whom  they  belonged  ;  that  the  Capital  which  he  found  the 
abode  of  slaves,  is  now  only  ^  the  home  of  the  free  ;  that  the 
boundless  public  domain  which  was  grasped  at,  and,  in  a  great 
measure,  held  for  the  diffusion  of  slavery,  is  now  irrevocably 
devoted  to  freedom." ^ 

"  A  debt  of  $600,000,000  now  is  a  less  sum  per  head  than  was 
the  debt  of  our  Revolution  when  we  came  out  of  that  strucfole. 
and  the  money  value  in  the  country  bears  even  a  greater  propor- 
tion to  what  it  was  then  than  does  the  population.  Surely  each 
man  has  as  strong  a  motive  now  to  preserve  our  liberties  as  each 
had  then  to  establish  them, 

"A  right  result  at  this  time  will  be  worth  more  to  the  world 
than  ten  times  the  men  and  ten  times  the  money."  * 

Burke  makes  frequent  and  effective  use  of  antithesis. 
For  example :  — 

"  The  question  with  me  is,  not  whether  you  have  a  right  to 
render  your  people  miserable ;  but  whether  it  is  not  your  interest 
to  make  them  happy.  It  is  not  what  a  lawyer  tells  me  I  may  do ; 
but  what  humanity,  reason,  and  justice  tell  me  I  ouffkt  to  do.  Is  a 
politic  act  the  worse  for  being  a  generous  one?  Is  no  concession 
proper,  but  that  which  is  made  from  your  want  of  right  to  keep 
what  you  grant?  .  .  . 

1  Anthony  Trollope:  Barchester  Towers,  vol.  ii.  chap.  x.  Tauchnitz 
edition. 

2  See  page  179. 

'  George  Bancroft.  Quoted  in  "Abraham  Lincoln's  Pen  and  Voice" 
(edited  by  G.  M.  Van  Buren) ;  Preface. 

*  Abraham  Lincobi:  First  Message  to  Congress,  July  4,  1861. 


ARRANGEMENT  191 

"  Compare  the  two.  This  I  offer  to  give  you  is  plain  and  simple ; 
the  other  full  of  perplexed  and  intricate  mazes.  This  is  mild  ;  that 
harsh.  This  is  found  by  experience  effectual  for  its  purposes ;  the 
other  is  a  new  project.  This  is  universal ;  the  other  calculated  for 
certain  colonies  only.  This  is  immediate  in  its  conciliatory  opera- 
tion ;  the  other  remote,  contingent,  full  of  hazard.  Mine  is  what 
becomes  the  dignity  of  a  ruling  people ;  gratuitous,  unconditional, 
and  not  held  out  as  matter  of  bargain  and  sale.  .  .  . 

...  "a  great  empire  and  little  minds  go  ill  together  .  .  .  our  an- 
cestors have  turned  a  savage  wilderness  into  a  glorious  empire  ;  and 
have  made  the  most  extensive  and  the  only  honourable  conquests ; 
not  by  destroying,  but  by  promoting,  the  wealth,  the  number,  the 
happiness,  of  the  human  race."  ^ 

Burke's  antitheses  are  peculiarly  valuable  as  examples, 
because  they  are  real  antitheses  corresponding  to  a  real 
opposition  of  ideas,  and  also  because  they  are  not  so 
frequent  or  so  protracted  as  to  become  monotonous, — 
excellences  which  cannot  be  fully  appreciated  without  a 
thorough  study  of  one  of  Burke's  speeches  as  a  whole. 

In  striking  contrast  with  this  great  writer's  temperate 
use  of  antithesis  are  the  excesses  into  which  Dr.  Johnson, 
Gibbon,   Junius,   and  Macaulay  fall.      Some-  Excesses  in 

'  '  ^  .       the  use  of 

times  these  authors  perplex  or  mislead  their  antithesis. 
readers  by  throwing  simple  sentences  into  an  antithetical 
form  "  by  the  addition  of  clauses,  which  add  little  or  noth- 
ing to  the  sense ;  and  which  have  been  compared  to  the 
false  handles  and  keyholes  with  which  furniture  is  deco- 
rated, that  serve  no  other  purpose  than  to  correspond  to 
the  real  ones."^  Sometimes  these  authors  weary  then 
readers  by  so  frequent  a  use  of  antithesis  as  to  give  to  the 
composition  an  artificial  air ;  they  seem  to  pay  more  at- 
tention to  manner  than  to  matter ;  they  stimulate  till 
stimulants  lose  their  power.     Such  excessive  use  of  an- 

*  Burke  :  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America. 

'  Whately  :  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  xir. 


192  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

titliesis  leads  to  exaggeration.  The  most  striking  con- 
trasts are  between  extremes ;  but  the  truth  rarely  lies  at 
either  extreme. 

Besides  employing  "  unnecessary  antithesis  to  express  very  sim- 
ple propositions,"  "Maeaulay,"  says  Minto,  "has  a  tendency  to 
make  slight  sacrifices  of  truth  to  antithesis.  The  chapter  on  the 
state  of  society  in  1(J85  has  been  convicted  of  many  exaggerated 
statements  by  less  dazzling  antiquarians.  In  his  numerous  com- 
parisons between  different  men,  he  unquestionably  tampers  with 
the  realities  for  the  sake  of  enhancing  the  effect.  He  exaggerates 
the  melancholy  of  Dante's  character  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
cheerfulness  of  Wilton's  on  the  other;  he  puts  too  strongly  the 
purely  illustrative  character  of  Dante's  similes  in  contradistinction 
to  the  purely  poetic  or  ornamental  character  of  Milton's.  So  he 
probably  overstates  the  shallowness  and  flippancy  of  Montesquieu,  to 
heighten  by  contrast  the  solidity  and  stateUness  of  Machiavelli."  i 

Force,  as  well  as  clearness,  favors  the  arrangement  of 

words    and    clauses    in    an    ascending    series,   called    a 

CLIMAX,^   the  general  coming  before  the  spe- 

Climax.  -n  i  • 

cihc,  the  negative  (usually)  before  the  posi- 
tive, the  less  important  before  the  more  important,  the 
less  interesting  before  the  more  interesting.  "As  imme- 
diately after  looking  at  the  sun  we  cannot  perceive  the 
light  of  a  fire,  while  ^  by  looking  at  the  fire  first  and  the 
sun  afterwards  we  can  perceive  both ;  so,  after  receiving 
a  brilliant,  or  weighty,  or  terrible  thought,  we  cannot 
appreciate  a  less  brilliant,  less  weighty,  or  less  terrible 
one,  while,^  by  reversing  the  order,  we  can  appreciate 
each."*    . 

The  climax  possesses  two  principal  merits :  it  prevents 
mental  fatigue  by  continually  increasing  the  pleasure  of 

1  Williain  Minto  :  A  Manual  of  English  Prose  Literature,  part  i.  chap,  ii 

2  From  /cAmaf,  a  ladder  or  staircase.  s  y^e  page  89. 
*  Herbert  Spencer  :  The  I'hilusophy  of  Style. 


ARRANGEMENT.  193 

mental  exertion ;  and  it  supplies  means  of  measuring  the 
value  of  the  final  assertion,  as  the  lower  Alps  help  the 
eye  to  measure  the  height  of  Mont  Blanc.  There  are 
no  better  examples  of  climax  than  the  hackneyed  ones 
from  Cicero:  — 

"  He  is  gone,  he  has  left  us,  he  has  escaped,  he  has  broken 
away."  ^ 

"  To  put  a  Roman  citizen  in  chains  is  a  misdeed ;  to  scourge 
him  is  a  crime  ;  to  Idll  him  is  almost  parricide  ;  to  crucify  him  — 
■what  shall  I  say  ?    For  so  nefarious  an  act  there  is  no  word."  * 

Another  example  may  be  taken  from  Demosthenes :  — 

"  Nor  did  I  make  a  speech  without  making  a  motion,  nor  make 
a  motion  without  undertaking  the  embassy,  nor  undertake  the  em- 
bassy without  prevailing  on  the  Thebans."  ^ 

The  following  examples  are  less  striking  than  those 
from  Cicero  and  Demosthenes,  but  they  more  accurately 
represent  the  climax  as  used  in  modern  writing :  — 

"  Your  children  do  not  grow  faster  from  infancy  to  manhood, 
than  they  [the  American  colonists]  spread  from  families  to  com- 
munities, and  from  villages  to  nations."  * 

"  It  is  the  spirit  of  the  English  constitution,  which,  infused 
through  the  mighty  mass,  pervades,  feeds,  unites,  invigorates, 
vivifies,  every  part  of  the  empire,  even  down  to  the  minutest 
member."  ^ 

1  Abiit,  excessit,  evasit,  erupit.  —  Cicero :  Orationes  in  Catilinam,  ii.  i. 

2  Facinus  est  vincire  civem  Romannm,  scehis  verberare,  prope  parri- 
ciflium  necare:  quid  dicam  in  crucem  tollere  7  verho  satis  digno  tam  ne- 
faria  res  appellari  nuUo  modo  potest.  —  Ibid. :  Orationes  in  Verrem,  ii.  v. 
J.xvi. 

^  "ZwiiraiviffauToiv  Se  itdvTwv  koL  ovSevhi  flirAvTOS  evavTiov  ovSiV  ovk 
flirov  fifv  Tavra,  ouk  (ypa^pa  Se,  o!>5'  fypa'l/a  yuei/,  ovk  firpf(T0fvcra  Se,  ovS 
4iTp^(T0(v(Ta  fjfv,  OVK  (Tretaa  Se  Qri^aiovs.  — Demosthenes:  HEPI  TOT  2TE- 
♦ANOT,  §  179. 

*  Burke:  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America. 

5  Ibid.    The  force  of  this  sentence  is  increased  by  the  om»«»ion  of  and: 

see  page  1  .'iO. 

»  -    \ 


194  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

"  Events  which  short-sighted  politicians  ascribed  to  earthly 
causes,  had  been  ordained  on  his  [the  Puritan's]  account.  For  his 
sake  empires  had  risen,  and  flourished,  and  decayed.  For  his  sake 
the  Almighty  had  proclaimed  his  will  by  the  pen  of  the  Evangelist, 
and  the  harp  of  the  prophet,  lie  had  been  wrested  by  no  common 
deliverer  from  the  grasp  of  no  common  foe.  He  had  been  ran- 
somed by  the  sweat  of  no  vulgar  agony,  by  the  blood  of  no  earthly 
sacrifice.  It  was  for  him  that  the  sun  had  been  darkened,  that  the 
rocks  had  been  rent,  that  the  dead  had  risen,  that  all  nature  had 
shuddered  at  the  sufferings  of  her  expiring  God  !  "  ^ 

"  A  character  has  been  drawn  of  a  very  eminent  citizen  of  Mas- 
sachusetts, of  the  last  age,  which,  though  I  think  it  does  not  entirely 
belong  to  him,  yet  very  well  describes  a  certain  class  of  public  men. 
It  was  said  of  this  distinguished  son  of  Massachusetts,  that  in 
matters  of  politics  and  government  he  cherished  the  most  kind 
and  benevolent  feelings  towards  the  whole  earth.  He  earnestly 
desired  to  see  all  nations  well  governed ;  and  to  bring  about  this 
happy  result,  he  wished  that  the  United  States  might  govern  the 
rest  of  the  world ;  that  Massachusetts  might  govern  the  United 
States ;  that  Boston  might  govern  Massachusetts ;  and  as  for  him- 
self, his  own  humble  ambition  would  be  satisfied  by  governing  the 
little  town  of  Boston."  2 

The  value  of  the  climax  is  further  shown  by  the 
Anti-ciimax.     absurd  effect  of  the  anti-climax :  — 

An  obituary  notice,  after  enumerating  the  virtues  of  the  de- 
ceased, ended  with  praise  of  his  handwriting. 

"  What  pen  can  describe  the  tears,  the  lamentations,  the  agonies, 
the  animated  remonstrances  of  the  unfortunate  prisoners!  " 

"Language  .  .  .  can  inform  them  [words]  with  the  spiritual 
philosophy  of  the  Pauline  epistles,  the  living  thunder  of  a  Demos- 
thenes, or  the  material  picturesqueness  of  a  Russell."  ^ 

"  When  I  was  at  Milan  I  saw  a  book  newly  published,  that  was 
dedicated  to  the  present  head  of  the  Borromean  family,  and  enti- 

1  Macanlay:  Essays;  Milton.  This  is  an  instance  of  skilful  repetition : 
Bee  pages  150-152. 

2  Daniel  Webster:  Speech  at  Niblo's  Saloon,  New  York,  March  15, 
1837. 

•  Marsh;  Lectures  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  xiii. 


ARRANGEMENT.  195 

tied  *  A  Discourse  on  the  Humility  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  of  St. 
Charles  Borromee.' "  * 

" '  [The  Church]  could  not  be  in  danger  as  long  as  we  enjoyed 
the  light  of  the  Gospel  and  our  excellent  constitution.'  "  2 

"  Both  lived  at  a  time  when  England  was  beginning  to  feel  the 
force  of  the  principles  of  civil  liberty,  when  the  throne  was  assum- 
ing prerogatives  which  the  people  were  unwilling  to  bear,  and  when 
resistance  at  home  to  these  encroachments  was  felt  to  be  a  duty  to 
God  and  to  one's  self."  ^ 

The  famous  utterance  of  President  Garfield,  "  God  reigns,  and 
the  government  at  Washington  still  lives,"  seems  like  an  anti- 
climax ;  but  it  may  be  defended  on  the  ground  that  the  specific 
fact  that  the  nation  still  lived  was  at  the  moment  more  interesting 
than  the  general  truth  that  God  reigns,  or  on  the  gi'ound  that  the 
meaning  is,  "  God  reigns,  and  therefore  the  nation  has  not  been 
destroyed." 

The  anti-climax  may  be  effective  in  the  service  of  wit 
or  humor :  — 

"  I  have  left  at  your  house  my  heart  and  my  tooth-brush."  ♦ 

"We  cannot  expect  to  be  loved  by  a  relative  whom  we  have 
knocked  into  an  illuminated  pond,  and  whose  coat-tails,  panta- 
loons, nether  limbs,  and  best  feelings  we  have  lacerated  with  ill- 
treatment  and  broken  glass."* 

"  When  George  the  Fourth  was  still  reigning  over  the  privacies 
of  Windsor,  when  the  Duke  of  Wellington  was  Prime  Minister, 
and  Mr.  Vincy  was  mayor  of  the  old  corporation  in  JMiddlemarch, 
Mrs.  Casaubon,  born  Dorothea  Brooke,  had  taken  her  wedding 
journey  to  Rome."  ^ 

"  He  [Dr.  Ezra  Piipley]  had  to  encounter  great  difficulties,  but, 
through  a  kind  providence  and  the  patronage  of  Dr.  Forbes,  he 
entered  Harvard  University,  July,  1772." '^ 

1  Addison  :  Remarks  on  Italy ;  Pavia,  Milan,  &c. 

2  Bishop  of  Peterborough  :  Quoted  in  McCarthy's  "  History  of  the 
Four  Georges,"  vol.  i.  chap.  x. 

8  American  newspaper.  ■*  Letter  from  a  young,  man  to  his  hostess. 

6  Thackeray:  The  Adventures  of  Philip,  chap,  xxxvi. 

6  George  Eliot :  Middlemarch,  book  ii.  chap.  xix. 

'  Emerson :  Lectures  and  Biographical  Sketches  ;  Ezra  Ripley,  D.  D. 


196  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

The  question  whether  a  simile  should  precede  or  fol- 
low the  literal  assertion  which  it  explains  or  enforces 
Position  of  h^s  been  discussed  at  length  by  Mr.  Herbert 
similes.  Spencer  in  his   "Philosophy    of    Style."     Mr. 

Spencer  maintains  that  the  simile  should,  as  a  rule,  come 
before  the  literal  assertion ;  but  an  examination  of  the 
practice  of  authors  whose  writings  abound  in  similes  will 
show  that  his  conclusion  is  without  warrant.  The  best 
order  in  every  case  is  tliat  which  combines  clearness  with 
force.  Where  there  is  no  question  of  clearness,  the  order 
should  be  the  order  of  force  —  the  order  of  climax.  Hence 
the  propriety  of  the  arrangement  in  the  following  lines : 

"  I  see  the  future  stretch 
All  dark  and  barren  as  a  rainy  sea."  ^ 

Here  it  is  evident  that  the  general  word  "  stretch "  is  raade 
specific  by  the  words  which  follow  it. 

"  Thence  up  he  flew,  and  on  the  tree  of  Life 

Sat  like  a  cormorant."  2 

"  But  to  her  heart,  her  heart  was  voluble, 

Paining  with  eloquence  her  balmy  side ; 

As  though  a  tongueless  nightingale  should  swell 
Her  throat  in  vain,  and  die,  heart-stifled,  in  her  dell."* 

"Higher  still  and  higher 

From  the  earth  thou  springest 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire."  * 

In  each  of  these  examples,  the  forcible  order  is  that  which  places 
the  simile  after  the  literal  assertion. 

"  As  wreath  of  snow,  on  mountain-breast, 
Slides  from  the  rock  that  gave  it  rest, 
Poor  Ellen  glided  from  her  stay, 
And  at  the  Monarch's  feet  she  lay."^ 

1  Quoted  by  Mr.  Spencer  from  Alexander  Smith's  "Life  Drama." 

2  Milton :  Paradise  Lost,  hook  iv.  line  194. 

8  Keats;  The  Eve  of  St.  Agnes.  *  Shelley:  To  a  Skylark, 

^  Scott:  The  Lady  of  the  Lake,  canto  vi.  stanza  xxvii. 


AUKAXGEMENT.  197 

If  the  first  two  lines  of  this  stanza  were  placed  after  the  third 
line,  they  would  obstruct  the  narrative ;  for,  the  moment  the  reader 
knows  that  Ellen  has  "  glided  from  her  stay,"  his  interest  is  not  in 
the  manner  of  her  doing  so  but  in  what  is  to  follow. 

"  Like  a  star  of  heaven, 
In  the  -broad  daylight 
Thou  art  unseen,  but  yet  I  hear  thy  shrill  delight."  * 

"As  vapours  breathed  from  dungeons  cold 
Strike  pleasure  dead, 
So  sadness  comes  from  out  the  mould 
Where  Burns  is  laid."  ■* 

In  each  of  these  examples,  the  forcible  order  is  that  which  places 
the  literal  assertion  after  the  simile. 

The  following  sentence  is  an  example  of  ineffective  order :  — 

"  It  was  like  some  vision  of  a  guiding,  succouring  spirit,  as  she 
moved  on,  slowly  gliding  in  her  white  draperies."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  "  as  she  moved  on,  slowly  gliding  in  her  white 
draperies  "  should  come  before  the  simile,  both  because  it  prepares 
the  mind  for  the  simile  and  because  it  is  less  important. 

Frequently  a  figure  of  speech  serves  partly  to  explain 
and  partly  to  enforce  the  meaning.  In  such  cases,  a 
skilful  writer  places  it  at  that  point  in  the  sentence 
where  it  serves  both  purposes.     For  example  :  — 

"  This  has  caused  such  powerful  invasions  of  bank  paper,  like 
sudden  and  succeeding  flights  of  birds  of  prey  and  passage,  and 
the  rapid  disappearance  of  specie  at  its  approach."* 

"  An  author's  pen,  like  children's  leg.s,  improves  by  exercise."  ^ 

"  'T  is  thine,  O  Glenullin !  whose  bride  sh.all  await, 
Like  a  love-lighted  watch-fire,  all  night  at  the  gate."  ' 

»  Shelley:  To  a  Skylark. 
2  Wordsworth;  At  the  Grave  of  Burns. 

'  Charlotte  M.  Yonge:    The  Heir  of  Redclyffe,  vol.  ii.   chap,   xiv 
Tauchnitz  edition. 

*  Daniel  Webster:   Speech  at  Madison,  Indiana,  June  1,  1837. 
'  Coleridge :  The  Friend,  vol.  i.  essay  iii. 
^  Thomas  Campbell :  Lochiel's  Warning. 


198  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

In  each  of  these  passages,  the  simile  is  so  placed  as  to  bring  out 
the  meaning  more  forcibly,  as  well  as  more  clearly,  than  if  placed 
either  at  the  beginning  or  at  the  end. 


SECTION  ni. 

EASE. 

In  the  arrangement,  as  well  as  in  the  choice  and  the 
number,  of  words  in  a  sentence,  attention  should  be  paid 
not  only  to  clearness  and  force,  but  also  to  ease.  With 
a  view  to  ease,  a  skilful  writer  so  places  words,  phrases, 
and  clauses  that  there  is  no  jar  or  interruption,  and  no 
false  emphasis.  In  this  matter  it  is  impossible  to  pre- 
scribe rules  that  will  be  of  much  service  to  the  student 
of  composition ;  but  he  may  get  a  little  help  from  a  few 
general  suggestions  accompanied  by  examples  that  point 
out  some  of  the  obstacles  to  the  attainment  of  ease  and 
some  of  the  ways  in  which  they  may  be  overcome. 

Ease  prohibits  an  arrangement  that  throws  the  empha- 
sis on,  and  thus  causes  a  suspension  of  the  sense  at,  a 
False  em-  particlc  or  other  unimportant  word  (as  in  this 
P^""^'"'  sentence).     Such  an  arrangement  is  hostile  to 

clearness,  for  it  obliges  the  mind  to  halt  at  the  very  points 
which  it  would  naturally  hurry  over;  it  is  also  hostile 
to  force,  for  it  emphasizes  words  that  do  not  "  deserve 
distinction  "  ^  at  the  expense  of  those  that  do.  Examples 
of  this  fault  are  :  — 

"  T  hav^e  often  spoken  to  you  upon  matters  kindred  to,  or,  at  any 
rate,  not  distantly  connected  with,  my  subject  for  this  Easter."  - 

1  This  happy  phrase  is  Professor  Barrett  Wendell's.  See  "English 
Composition,"  pages  102,  103. 

2  Helps;  Social  Pressure,  chap.  iii. 


ARRANGEMENT.  199 

..."  the  two  youths  had  been  long  engaged  to  drive  with,  and 
keep  the  birthday  of,  JNlr.  Cornelius  O'Shane,  the  king  of  the  Black 
Islands."  ^ 

"  He  was  quizzed  and  bespattered  and  made  a  fool  of,  just  as 
though,  or  rather  worse  than  (/,  he  had  been  a  constant  enemy 
instead  of  a  constant  friend."  '^ 

"  When  the  memoirs  and  correspondence  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  are 
published,  a  disclosure,  it  is  believed,  will  take  place  which  will 
furnish  a  fresh  illustration  of,  if  it  does  not  throw  new  light  on 
the  characters,  of  the  two  eminent  men  concerned."  ^ 

"  Eighty-five  years  ago  to-day  the  sun  shone  on  and  the  wintry 
winds  sang  to  a  gray  old  house  beside  a  bleak  hillside  in  Haverhill 
town."  4 

"  The  loss  of  so  important  an  aid  to  the  intelligent  and  living 
apprehension  of  a  truth,  as  is  afforded  by  the  necessity  of  explain- 
ing it  to,  or  defending  it  against,  opponents,  though  not  sufficient 
to  outweigh,  is  no  trifling  drawback /ro?«,  the  benefit  of  its  univer- 
sal recognition."  ^ 

The  question  whether  the  last  word  in  a  sentence  should 
be  a  particle  or  a  longer  and  more  important  ^^^  ^^  g^^  ^ 
word  is  usually  a  question  of  ease.  sentence. 

We  may  write :  (1)  "  These  were  the  authorities  which 
he  referred  to  or  commented  upon,"  or  (2)  "These  were 
the  authorities  to  which  he  referred  or  upon  which  he 
commented;"  (1)  "Mr.  Mill  was,  I  believe,  the  first 
who  distinctly  characterized  the  ambiguity,  and  pointed 
out  how  many  errors  in  the  received  systems  of  philos- 
ophy it  has  had  to  answer  for,"^  or  (2)  "for  how  many 
errors  ...  it  has  had   to   answer;"  (1)  "It   is  a   fun- 

1  Miss  Edgeworth:  Ormond,  chap.  i. 

2  Anthony  Trollope ;  Barchester  Towers,  vol.  ii.  chap.  v.  Tauchnitz 
edition. 

2  The  Political  Adventures  of  Lord  Beaconsfield.     The  Fortnightly 
Review,  June,  1878,  p.  880. 
*  American  newspaper. 
6  J.  S.  Mill:  On  Liberty. 
'  Ibid. :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  i.  chap.  iv.  sect.  i. 


200  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

dainental  principle  in  logic,  tliat  the  power  of  framing 
classes  is  unlimited,  as  long  as  there  is  any  (even  the 
smallest)  difference  to  found  a  distinction  upon,''  ^  or  (2) 
"upon  which  to  found  a  distinction;"  (1)  "The  progress 
of  knowledge  pointed  out  limits  to  them,  or  showed  their 
truth  to  be  contingent  upon  some  other  circumstance  not 
originally  attended  to,"^  or  (2)  "to  which  attention  was 
not  originally  paid." 

In  each  of  these  cases,  the  more  formal  structure  would 
be  preferred  by  some  writers,  the  less  formal  by  others ; 
but  there  are  cases  in  which  the  less  formal  would  be 
chosen  by  many,  if  not  all,  authors  who  wish  to  write  with 
ease.     Such  cases  are  the  following  •  — 

"  But,  in  truth,  cats  are  a  slandered  people ;  they  have  more 
affection  in  them  than  the  world  commonly  gives  them  credit 
for."  8 

..."  after  all  the  chief  stimulus  of  good  style  is  to  possess  a 
full,  rich,  complex  matter  to  grapple  with."  * 

"  '  But  are  you  sure,  —  I  am  not,  —  that  I  am  such  stuff  as  an 
English  lady  should  be  made  of?'"^ 

" '  I  should  have  remembered  how  a  title  would  shine  out  in 
such  a  hole  as  this,'  says  the  Master,  white  as  a  sheet :  'no  matter 
how  unjustly  come  by.'  "  ^ 

"  Even  a  person  unacquainted  with  the  noble  remains  of  ancient 
orators,  may  judge,  from  a  few  strokes,  that  the  style  or  species  of 
their  eloquence  was  infinitely  more  sublime  than  that  which  mod- 
ern orators  aspire  to."^ 

^  J.  S.  Mill :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  i.  chap  vii.  sect.  iv. 
2  Ibid.,  book  iii.  chap.  iv.  sect.  ii.     See  also  Marsh;  Lectures  on  the 
English  I^anguage,  lect.  vii. 

8  Irving:   Piraceliridge  Hall;  Dolph  Heyh'ger. 

*  Pater:   Ap])reciations;  Style. 

*  Anthony  Trollope:  The  Duke's  Children,  vol.  iii.  chap.  xv.  Tauch- 
nitz  edition. 

"  Stevenson :  The  Master  of  Ballantrae,  chap.  x. 
'  Hume:   E.ssays;  Of  Eloquence. 


ARRANGEMENT.  201 

Sentences  like  those  just  quoted  do  not  contravene  the 
principle  which  forbids  a  writer  to  throw  stress  on  unim- 
portant words;  for  in  these  sentences,  as  any  one  who 
reads  them  aloud  will  perceive,  the  stiess  is  thrown,  not 
on  the  last  word,  but  on  the  next  to  the  last.  They  show 
too  that  the  les-3  formal  way  of  ending  a  sentence  is 
especially  suited  to  familiar  writing.  "  This  form  of  sen- 
tence,'' writes  Hallam,  "  is,  in  my  opinion,  sometimes 
emphatic  and  spirited,  tliough  its  frequent  use  appears 
slovenly.  I  remember  my  late  friend,  Mr.  Eichard  Sharp, 
whose  good  taste  is  well  known,  used  to  quote  an  inter- 
rogatory of  Hooker :  '  Shall  there  be  a  God  to  swear  by, 
and  none  to  pray  to?'  as  an  instance  of  the  force  which 
this  arrangement,  so  eminently  idiomatic,  sometimes 
gives."  ^ 

In  some  cases  opinions  may  differ  as  to  the  choice  of 
form.     For  example :  — 

"  Now,  we  feel  lively  interest  when  a  veteran  statesman  or  soldier 
gives  us  his  recollections  of  stirring  events  in  which  in  his  younger 
days  he  had  taken  part.*'  ^ 

This  sentence  as  quoted  by  Mr.  Earle  is  certainly  clumsy,  in 
consequence  of  the  juxtaposition  of  the  two  in's ;  but  some  writers 
might  hesitate  between  the  form  he  suggests  —  "  events  which  in 
his  younger  days  he  had  taken  part  in "  —  and  this  form,  "events 
in  which  he  had  taken  part  in  his  younger  days." 

The  foregoing  examples  go  to  show  that  the  question 
whetlier  to  end  a  sentence  with  a  particle  or  with  a  more 
important  word  is  wholly  a  question  of  adapting  means  to 
end.  A  practised  writer  will,  in  every  case,  instinctively 
choose  that  way  which  suits  his  immediate  purpose. 

1  Hallam :  Introduction  to  the  Literature  of  Europe  in  the  Fifteenth, 
Sixteenth,  and  Seventeenth  Centuries,  part  iv.  chap.  vii.  note. 
-  Quoted  by  John  Earle  :  Englisli  i  rose,  chap.  vii. 


202  KHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

In  a  sentence  which  contains  qualifying  or  parenthetic 
expressions,  ease  requires  that  these  expressions  be  so 
Position  of  arranged  that  the  sentence  shall  run  smoothly 
parentireuc"**  from  beginning  to  end.  Such  a  sentence  is 
expressions,      ^j^^j.  f^.^^  j^^^,^  Shaf tcsbury's  "Advice  to  an 

Author,"  already  quoted  as  an  example  of  clearness  in 

arrangement :  — 

"  If,  whilst  they  profess  only  to  please,  they  secretly  advise,  and 
give  instruction,  they  may  now,  perhaps,  as  well  as  formerly,  be 
esteemed,  with  justice,  the  best  and  most  honourable  among 
authors."  ^ 

The  following  sentences  are  examples  of  awkward 
arrangement :  — 

"  That  is  not  an  unwise  attitude  to  take  ...  for  it  makes  of  the 
Bulgarian  Army  the  steel  tip  as  against  Russia  of  the  great  Otto- 
man spear."  ^ 

In  its  present  position,  the  phrase  "  as  against  Russia  "  offends 
against  ease.  It  would  not  have  this  effect  if  it  were  placed  either 
after  "  for  "  or  after  "  army." 

"  He  was  regular,  as  became  a  pilgrim,  in  his  devotional  ex- 
ercises." ^ 

In  its  present  position,  the  expression  "  as  became  a  pilgrim  " 
obstructs  the  flow  of  the  sentence.  It  would  not  have  this  effect 
if  it  were  placed  either  at  the  beginning  or  at  the  end  of  the 
sentence. 

"I  have  ventured  to  give  to  the  foreign  word  Rmahaance  — 
destined  to  become  of  more  common  use  amongst  us,  as  the  move- 
ment which  It  denotes  comes,  as  it  wiU  come,  increasingly  to 
interest  us  —  an  English  form."* 

This  sentence  —  already  quoted  for  a  different  purpose^  —  is 
clumsy  in  consequence  of  the  length  of  the  parenthetic  clause.     It 

*  Blair :  Lectures  on  Rhetoric,  lect.  xii.     See  pages  182,  183. 
2  The  [London]  Spectator,  June  23,  1894,  p.  841. 

*  Scott:  The  Talisman,  chap.  v. 

*  Matthew  Arnold :  Culture  and  Anarchy,  sect.  iv.  note. 
6  See  page  36. 


ARRANGEMENT.  203 

would  be  better  to  say,  "  I  have  ventured  to  give  an  English  form 
to,"  etc.  It  is  to  be  noticed,  however,  that  the  effect  of  this 
change  is  to  remove  the  important  words  "  an  English  form " 
from  the  emphatic  position  at  the  end  of  the  sentence. 

The  sentences  cited  exemplify  a  frequent  offence  against 
ease,  —  that  caused  by  the  separation  of  words  which 
belong  together  in  meaning,  such  as  subject  and  verb,  verb 
and  object,  noun  and  pronoun,  principal  and  qualifying 
expression.  Sometimes,  as  in  the  amended  form  of  Mr. 
Arnold's  sentence,  the  order  which  conduces  to  easie 
conduces  also  to  clearness,  but  not  to  force.  This  is  true 
of  a  sentence  which  Mr.  Spencer  uses  as  an  example  of 
defective  arrangement :  — 

"  A  modern  newspaper-statement,  though  probably  true,  would 
be  laughed  at,  if  quoted  in  a  book  as  testimony ;  but  the  letter  of  a 
court  gossip  is  thought  good  historical  evidence,  if  written  some 
centuries  ago." 

This  sentence  Mr.  Spencer  would  rearrange  so  as  to  make  it 
read  thus :  — 

"  Though  probably  true,  a  modern  newspaper-statement  quoted 
in  a  book  as  testimony,  would  be  laughed  at ;  but  the  letter  of  a 
court  gossip,  if  written  some  centuries  ago,  is  thought  good  histori- 
cal evidence."  ^ 

In  point  of  force,  Mr.  Spencer's  sentence  is  preferable  to  the 
original ;  for  the  important  words  in  each  clause  are  in  the  em- 
phatic place.  In  point  of  ease,  however,  as  well  as  of  clearness, 
the  original  seems  the  better. 

In  the  first  of  the  following  sentences  parenthetic  expres- 
sions are  so  badly  arranged,  in  the  second  they  are  so  nu- 
merous, as  to  offend  against  both  clearness  and  ease  :  — 

"  In  every  one  of  those  masterly  sentences  of  Flaubert  there 
was,  below  all  mere  contrivance,  shaping  find  afterthought,  by 
Bome  happy  instantaneous  concourse  of  the  various  faculties  of 

^  Herbert  Spencer :  The  Philosophy  of  Style. 


204  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

the  mind  with  each  other,  the  exact  apprehension  of  what  was 
needed  to  carry  the  meaning.''  i 

"  In  lieu  of  our  half-pickled  Sundays,  or  quite  freak  boiled  beef 
on  Thursdays  (strong  as  caro  equina  ),  with  detestable  marigolds 
floating  in  the  pail  to  poison  the  broth  —  our  scanty  mutton  scrags 
on  Fridays,  —  and  rather  more  savoury,  but  grudging,  portions  of 
the  same  flesh,  rotten-roasted  or  rare,  on  the  Tuesdays  (the  only 
dish  which  excited  our  appetites,  and  disappointed  our  stomachs, 
in  almost  equal  proportion)  —  he  had  his  hot  plate  of  roast  veal, 
or  the  more  tempting  griskin  (exotics  unknown  to  our  palates), 
cooked  in  the  paternal  kitchen  (a  great  thing),  and  brought  him 
daily  by  his  maid  or  aunt !  "  2 

The  imitation  of  an  arrangement  natural  to  Latin, 
Greek,  or  German,  but  foreign  to  English,  is  an  offence 
Imitation  of  agauist  easB,  —  an  offence  committed  sometimes 
Qieigu  or  er.    -^^  ignorauce,  sometimes  by  design. 

The  offence  may  consist  in  the  ad'^ption  of  compound 
expressions  unusual  in  English.     For  example :  — 

"  Now  you  must  know,  that  from  the  last  conversation  that 
passed  between  my  aunt  and  me,  it  comes  out,  that  this  sudden 
vehemence  on  my  brother's  and  sister's  pai-ts,  was  owing  to 
stronger  reasons  than  to  the  college-be cjun  antipathy  on  his  side,  or 
to  slighted  love  on  hers."^ 

..."  the  earlieM  learnt  and  oflenest  used  words  will,  other  thinos 
equal,  call  up  images  with  less  loss  of  time  and  energy  than  their 
later  learnt  synonijmex."  * 

"  Considering  then  the  writings  and  fame  of  Sir  W.  Hamilton 
as  the  great  fortress  of  the  intuitional  philosophy  in  this  country, 
a  fortress  the  more  formidable  from  the  imposing  charactei-,  and 
the  in  main/  respects  great  personal  merits  and  mental  endoivments,  of 
the  man."  6 

^  Pater:  Appreciations;  Style. 

2  Charles  Lamb:  Essays  of  Elia;  Clirist's  Hospital  Five-and-Thirty 
Years  Ago. 

3  Richardson  :  Clarissa  Harlowe,  vol.  i   letter  xiii. 
*  Herbert  Spencer;  'J'he  Philosojihy  of  Style. 

s  J.  S.  Mill:  Autobiogra])hy,  chap.  vii.  Quoted  in  John  Earle's 
"English  Prose,"  chap.  vii. 


ARRANGEMENT.  205 

The  offence  may  consist  in  the  adoption  of  a  form  of 
artificial  arrangement  which  has  been  called  "  Johnsonese." 

"  His  [Johnson's]  letters  from  the  Hebrides  to  Mrs.  Thi-ale  are 
the  original  of  that  work  of  which  the  Journey  to  the  Hebrides  is 
the  translation ;  and  it  is  amusing  to  compare  the  two  versions. 
'  When  we  were  taken  upstairs,'  says  he  in  one  of  his  letters,  '  a 
dirty  fellow  bounced  out  of  the  bed  on  which  one  of  us  was  to  lie.' 
This  incident  is  recorded  in  the  Journey  as  follows  :  'Out  of  one 
of  the  beds  on  which  we  were  to  repose  started  up,  at  our  entrance, 
a  man  black  as  a  Cyclops  from  the  forge.'  "  ^ 

Macaulay  cites  these  two  ways  of  saying  the  same  thing  as  illus- 
trative of  Dr.  Johnson's  preference  for  fine  w'ords  over  the  "  simple, 
energetic,  and  picturesque  "  ones  that  were  at  his  command ;  and 
certainly  the  word  "  bounced  "  gives  to  the  first  version  a  life 
which  is  absent  from  the  second.  In  the  second  version,  however, 
"  the  style  is  characterized  as  unidioinatic,  quite  as  nmch  by  the 
suspension  of  the  sense,  in  consequence  of  the  complicated  inver- 
sion, '  Out  of  one  of  the  beds  started  up,  at  our  entrance,  a  man,' 
as  by  the  selection  of  the  words  which  compose  it."^  The  first 
version  follows  the  order  in  which  one  would  naturally  tell  the 
story ;  the  second  is  unnatural  in  prose,  and  especially  so  in  the 
account  of  so  simple  an  incident. 

Miss  Burney  in  her  later  novels  out-Johnsons  Johnson 

at  his  worst. 

"  Never  was  writer,"  says  a  recent  critic,  "  so  bent  on  putting 
words  out  of  their  natural  order  as  Miss  Burney.  The  trick  be- 
comes unpleasant  to  the  eye;  still  more  so  to  the  ear,  if  'Cecilia' 
be  read  aloud.  .  .  .  Still  we  fancy  that  she  considered  inversion  to 
be  ornamental,  nay,  dignified,  and  did  not  consciously  affect  a 
I'rench  arranq;ement  of  w'ords  as  being  French.  What  she  came 
to  in  'Camilla'  is  so  insufferable,  that,  on  finding  this  sinq")le  sen- 
tence '  Thus  lived  and  died  another  week,'  we  copied  it  at  once  as 
being  the  best  in  the  five  volumes."  ^ 


'o 


^  Macanlay:  Essays;  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson. 

2  Marsh:  Lectures  on  the  English  Language,  lect.  vii. 

8  Annie  Raine  Ellis :  Preface  to  Miss  Barney's  "  Cecilia.'' 


206  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

An  example  from  Miss  Burney  shows  what  this  critic  means :  — 
"  Mr.  Morrice,  without  ceremony,  attacked  his  fair  neighbour ; 
he  talked  of  her  journey,  and  the  prospects  of  gaiety  which  it 
opened  to  her  view  ;  but  by  these  finding  lier  unmoved,  he  changed 
his  theme,  and  expatiated  upon  the  delights  of  the  spot  she  was 
quitting."  ^ 

Examples  from  other  authors  are :  — 

"  As  soon  as  Mrs.  Dashwood  had  recovered  herself,  to  see  Mari- 
anne was  her  first  desire."  2 

"But  when  .  .  .  she  heard  him  declare  that  of  music  and  dancing 
he  was  passionately  fond,  she  gave  him  such  a  look  of  approbation 
as  secm-ed  the  largest  share  of  his  discourse  to  herself  for  the  rest 
of  his  stay."  ^ 

"  Of  breakfast  she  had  been  kept  by  her  fears,  and  of  dinner  by 
their  sudden  reverse,  from  eating  much."  * 

Except  in  "  Sense  and  Sensibility,"  such  constructions  are  very 
rare  in  Miss  Austen. 

"  '  Mind  and  matter,'  said  the  lady  in  the  wig,  '  glide  swift  into 
the  vortex  of  immensity.  Howls  the  sublime,  and  softly  sleeps 
the  calm  Ideal,  in  the  whispering  chambers  of  Imagination.  To 
hear  it,  sweet  it  is.  But  then,  outlaughs  the  stern  philosopher, 
and  saith  to  the  Grotesque,  '  What,  ho  ! '  "  ^ 

"  Galloped  up  the  winding  steep  of  Canobia  the  Sheikh  Said 
Djinblat."6 

"  Came  slowly,  on  steeds  dark  as  night,  up  the  winding  steep  of 
Canobia,  with  a  company  of  twenty  men  on  foot  armed  with  mus- 
kets and  handjars,  the  two  ferocious  brothers  Abuneked,  Nasif 
and  Hamood.  Pale  is  the  cheek  of  the  daughters  of  Maron  at  the 
fell  name  of  Abuneked."  ^ 

"  Stole  over  his  spirit  the  countenance  august,  with  the  flowing 
beard  and  the  lordly  locks,  .  .  .  stole  over  the  spirit  of  the  gazing 

1  Miss  Burney:  Cecilia,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. 

2  Miss  Austen :  Sense  and  Sensibility^,  vol.  ii.  chap,  xviii. 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  i.  chap.  x. 

*  Ibid.,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

*  Dickens :  Martin  Chuzzlewit,  chap,  xxxiv. 
'  Disraeli :  Tancred,  book  v.  chap.  iL 


ARRANGEMENT.  207 

pilgrim,  each  shape  of  that  refined  and  elegant  hierarchy  made  for 
the  worship  of  clear  skies  and  sunny  lands."  ^ 

The  foreign  structure  of  sentence  was  elevated  by  Ben- 
tham  into  a  matter  of  principle.  "  He  could  not  bear," 
says  Mill,  "  for  the  sake  of  clearness  and  the  Theories  of 

Bentliam  and 

reader's  ease,  to  say,  as  ordinary  men  are  con-  spencer. 
tent  to  do,  a  little  more  than  the  truth  in  one  sentence, 
and  correct  it  in  the  next.  The  whole  of  the  qualifying 
remarks  which  he  intended  to  make  he  insisted  upon  im- 
bedding as  parentheses  in  the  very  middle  of  the  sentence 
itself.  And  thus  the  sense  being  so  long  suspended,  and 
attention  being  required  to  the  accessory  ideas  before  the 
principal  idea  had  been  properly  seized,  it  became  difficult, 
without  some  practice,  to  make  out  the  train  of  thought."^ 
Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's  ^  theory  of  arrangement  is  not  un- 
like Bentham's,  but  his  practice  does  not  closely  conform 
to  his  theory. 

•V  Whatever  arrangement  may,  according  to  Bentham  or 
to  Mr.  Spencer,  be  theoretically  the  best,  the  best  working 
arrangement  is  that  which  —  whether  "  di-  j^^^^  natural 
rect"  or  "indirect,"  "natural"  or  "inverted"—  o-^^er  the  best, 
conduces  most  to  "  clearness  and  the  reader's  ease."  Any 
order  which  seems  natural  to  the  persons  addressed  is 
easier,  as  well  as  more  forcible,  than  one  which  strikes 
them  as  strange  and  by  its  strangeness  calls  their  atten- 
tion from  the  substance  to  the  form  of  the  sentence. 
Writers  who  are  most  artificial  in  style  are  addicted  to 
"  harsh  inversions,  so  widely  different  from  those  graceful 
and  easy  inversions  which  give  variety,  spirit,  and  sweet- 
ness to  the  expression  of  our  great  old  writers  " :  *  those 

1  Disraeli :  Taiicrcd,  book  vi.  chap.  iii. 

2  J.  S.  Mill:  Dissertations  and  Discussions;  Bentham. 
a  See  "  The  Philosophy  of  Style." 

*  Macaulay :  Essays ;  Boswell's  Life  of  Johnson. 


208  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

distinguished  by  idiomatic  ease  vary  the  order  of  words 
in  successive  sentences  so  agreeably  that  attention  is  not 
called  to  the  arrangement. 


SECTIOJ^  IV. 

UNITY. 

In  some  kinds  of  writing  clearness  is  of  special  value, 
in  others  force,  in  others  ease ;  in  every  kind  of  writing 
Meamn<T  and  UNITY  is  of  paramount  importance.  Every  sen- 
vaiueof  uuity.  ^gjjcc,  whether  short  or  long,  simple,  compound, 
or  complex,  should  be  a  unit. 

That  unity  does  not  depend  on  the  length  or  the  com- 
plexity of  a  sentence  the  following  examples  will  show:  — 

"  Mr.  Drummer  spent  a  week  at  the  World's  Fair." 

"Mr.  Drummer  at  last  -went  to  the  World's  Fair;  but  he  was 
able  to  be  there  a  week  only."  ' 

"Mr.  Drummer  would  have  spent  more  than  a  week  at  the 
World's  Fair  if  he  had  not  been  pressed  by  business  engagements." 

"  Though  Mr.  Drummer  spent  but  a  week  at  the  World's  Fair, 
he  did  all  that  a  man  of  his  years  and  tastes  could  be  expected  to 
do :  he  saw  the  buildings  by  day  and  by  night  and  from  every 
point  of  view ;  he  glanced  at  the  pictures  and  examined  the 
machinery;  he  took  a  whirl  on  the  Ferris  wheel  and  a  turn  in  a 
gondola ;  he  spent  two  or  three  evenings  in  the  Midway  Plaisance." 

Each  of  these  sentences  expresses  one  idea ;  in  the  first  the  idea 
is  simple,  in  the  others  it  is  more  or  less  complex. 

A  sentence  should  be  a  unit  both  in  substance  and  in 
expression. 

In  a  sentence  which  has  unity  in  substance,  ideas  are 
^jnity  homogeneous :  they  form  a  whole.     The  fol- 

in  substance,  lo^jjjg  sentcuces  kck  unity  in  that  they  con- 
tain heterogeneous  ideas :  — 


ARRANGEMENT.  209 

"But  I  did  not  wonder  at  her  earning  the  reputation  she  had, 
for  she  was  absolutely  world-weary,  and,  with  the  exception  of  a 
pet  priest  or  two  (whom  she  laughed  at,  moreover),  she  would  see 
no  one ;  and,  as  I  have  already  said,  her  powers  of  satire,  and  even 
mimicry,  remained  unimpaired."  ^ 

It  would  be  difficult  to  frame  a  sentence  less  homogeneous  than 
this.  The  fact  that  Jane  Clermont  "  would  see  no  one  "  has  nothing 
in  common  with  the  fact  tliat  her  powers  of  satire  remained  unim- 
paired.    The  woi'ds  in  italics  belong  in  a  separate  sentence. 

..."  the  other  falls  so  grossly  into  the  censure  of  the  old  poetry, 
and  preference  of  the  new,  that  I  could  not  read  either  of  these 
strains  without  some  indignation;  ivhich  no  quality  among  men  is  so 
apt  to  raise  in  me  as  self-sufficiency."  ^ 

This  sentence  naturally  ends  at  "  indignation."  It  is  not  only 
overloaded  but  weakened  by  the  succeeding  words,  which  add  ex- 
traneous matter  in  a  postscript  as  it  were. 

"  Mendelssohn  brought  it  to  London  in  MS.  in  1844,  and  it  was 
tried  at  a  Philharmonic  Rehearsal,  but  for  some  reason  was  not 
performed  till  a  concert  of  Mrs.  Anderson's,  May  25,  1849,  and  is 
now  in  the  library  at  Buckingham  Palace."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  besides  the  offence  against  unity,  there  is  an- 
other serious  fault :  it  was  not  the  manuscript  of  "  Ruy  Bias " 
that  was  "performed"  in  1849  ;  it  is  the  manuscript  that  "is  now 
in  the  library  at  Buckingham  Palace." 

In  each  of  the  following  examples,  the  words  in  italics  belong  in 
a  separate  sentence :  — 

"No  accident  whatever  occurred  [at  the  Czar's  coronation],  ex- 
cept that  a  Court  chamberlain  was  thrown  and  broke  his  head,  and 
the  reception  by  the  people  was  most  enthusiastic."  * 

"  The  best  contested  was  the  third  race,  in  which  California  and 
Harry  Reed  were  about  equal  favorites,  and  the  judges  could  not  sep- 
arate them  at  the  finish."  ^ 

1  William  Graham  :  Chats  with  Jane  Clermont.  The  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, November,  1893,  p.  766. 

-  Blair :  Lectures  on  Rhetoric,  lect.  xi.  Quoted  from  Sir  William 
Tem  pie. 

3  Sir  George  Grove :  A  Dictionary  of  Music  and  Musicians ;  Ruy  Blaa 

<  The  [London]  Spectator,  May  26,  1883,  p.  661. 

^  American  newspaper. 


210  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

«  He  may  be  taken  as  the  type  of  what  was  best  among  the  men 
of  rank  and  fashion  at  the  English  Court,  and  that  he  hunsdffolt  the 
poetrij  of  his  life  the  lines  written  while  imprisoned  at  Windsor  for  some 
misdemeanor  occasioned  by  his  hot-blooded  temper,  bear  witness."^ 

"  At  this  moment  the  clang  of  the  portal  was  heard,  a  sound 
at  which  the  stranger  started,  stepped  hastily  to  the  window,  and 
looked  with  an  air  of  alarm  at  Racenswood,  when  he  saw  that  the  gate 
of  the  court  was  shut,  and  his  domr'slics  excluded."  ^ 

"Passing 3  now  to  the  wind-instruments,  the  exhibit  of  the 
French  makers  stands  first,  although  it  is  small,  they  having  sent 
none  but  fii-st-class  instruments;  and  they  have  captured  nearly 
every  prize,  which  is  worthy  of  note,  even  if  it  is  not  a  circumstance 
which  is  cerij  creditable  to  native  industry  and  intelligence."  ^ 

"  Nicholas,  taking  the  insensible  girl  in  his  arms,  bore  her  from 
the  chamber  and  down  stairs  into  the  room  he  had  just  quitted, 
followed  by  his  sister  and  the  faithful  servant,  whom  he  charged  to 
procure  a  coach  directly  while  he  and  Kate  bent  over  their  beautiful 
charrje  and  endeavoured,  but  in  vain,  to  restore  her  to  animation."* 

"  On  the  present  occasion,  fifteen  hundred  ladies  and  gentlemen 
were  invited;  and  the  attendance,  comprising  about  one  thou- 
sand, was  a  full  representation  of  the  fashionable  part  of  Liverpool 
society,  but  did  not  include  any  persons  of  rank  from  a  sphere  be- 
yond the  locality,  except  Lord  Claud  John  Hamilton,  M.  P.  for 
Liverpool,  while  ^  Lady  Claud  Hamilton  was  unable  to  be  present,  and 
none  of  the  county  nnbility  could  attend."  ^ 

"Among  the  principal  events  of  Monday  were  Mrs.  George 
Place's  musicale,  several  receptions,  and  an  elegant  dinner  given 
by  Mr.  Wilson  at  Kebo  to  eighteen  guests,  the  decorations  being 
beautifully  done  in  deep  red  roses."'' 

"  So  at  eleven  o'clock  I  called,  and  we  had  a  lovely  drive,  saun- 
tering later  through  the  Medici  galleries,  and  I  parted  with  her  at 
her  door,  at  lohich  I  again  presented  myself  at  seven."  8 

1  Student's  theme. 

2  Scott :  'J"he  Bride  of  Lammermoor,  vol.  ii.  chap.  ii. 
8  With  what  word  is  this  participle  connected  ? 

*  Dickens :  Nicholas  Nicklebv,  vol.  ii.  chap.  xxii.  5  See  page  89. 

6  The  Illustrated  London  News,  Feb.  3,  IR83.    '  American  new.-^paper, 
«  William  Graham  :  Cliats  with  Jane  Clermont.    The  Nineteenth  Cen- 
tury, November,  1893,  p.  76-t. 


ARRANGEMENT.  211 

By  recastiDg  the  last  sentence,  it  would  be  possible  to  put  into  it 
all  that  occurred  in  the  course  of  the  morning ;  but  the  fact  of  the 
evening  visit  belongs  in  another  sentence. 

"  Coningsby,  who  had  lost  the  key  of  his  carpet-bag,  which  he 
finally  cut  open  with  a  pen-knife  that  he  found  on  his  writing-table, 
and  the  blade  of  which  he  broke  in  the  operation,  only  reached  the 
drawing-room  as  thejiyure  of  his  (jr  and  father,  leaning  on  his  ivory  cane, 
and  following  his  guests,  teas  Just  risible  in  the  distance."  ^ 

The  details  about  Coniiigsby's  carpet-bag  do  not  belong  in  the 
same  sentence  with  the  details  of  his  arrival  in  the  drawing-room. 
It  would  have  been  better  to  divide  the  sentence  into  two,  the  first 
enumerating  the  circumstances  that  detained  Coningsby,  the  sec- 
ond the  facts  connected  with  his  ai-rival  in  the  drawing-room. 
This,  of  coui'se,  is  on  the  supposition  that  the  particulars  about  the 
carpet-bag  were  worth  mentioning  at  aU.  ^ 

The  opposite  fault  to  that  of  putting  heterogeneous 
ideas  into  one  sentence  is  that  of  scattering  matter 
which  belongs  in  one  sentence  through  two  or  more. 
For  example :  — 

" '  If  you  were  to  talk  of  my  health,  it  would  be  more  to  the 
purpose,'  he  said,  with  grim  inconsequence.  And  raising  his  heavy 
lids  he  looked  at  her  full."  ^ 

"  He  hesitated,  struck  with  the  awkwardness  of  what  he  was 
going  to  say.     But  Marcella  understood  him."  * 

"  With  all  the  force  of  her  strong  will  she  had  set  herself  to 
disbelieve  them.     But  they  had  had  subtle  effects  already."  ^ 

"  He  has  no  rival.  For  the  more  truly  he  consults  his  own  pow- 
ers, the  more  difference  will  his  work  exhibit  from  the  work  of 
others."  « 

In  each  of  these  cases,  the  relation  between  the  two  proposi- 
tions connected  by  "and,"  "but,"  or  "for,"  would  be  brought  out 
more  clearly  if  the  two  sentences  were  thrown  into  one. 

1  Disraeli:  Coningsby,  book  i.  chap.  v. 

2  See  pages  167,  168. 

3  Mrs.  Humpliry  Ward  :  Marcella,  book  i.  chap.  vii. 
*  Ibid.,  book  i.  chap.  W. 

5  Ibid.,  book  ii.  chap.  ii. 

^  Emerson:  Essays;  Spiritual  Laws. 


212  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

When  several  short  sentences,  each  of  which  is  a  unit 
in  itself,  are  so  closely  connected  in  thought  as  to  form 
parts  of  a  larger  unit,  they  may  be  put  into  one  sen- 
tence. The  advantages  of  putting  several  short  sen- 
tences into  a  long  one  are  exemplified  in  the  following 
passages :  — 

"  It  is  nothing,  that  the  troops  of  France  have  passed  from  the 
Pyrenees  to  Cadiz ;  it  is  nothing  that  an  unhappy  and  jDrostrate 
nation  has  fallen  before  them ;  it  is  nothing  that  arrests,  and  con- 
fiscation, and  execution,  sweep  away  the  little  remnant  of  national 
resistance.  There  is  an  enemy  that  still  exists  to  check  the  glory 
of  these  triumphs.  It  follows  the  conqueror  back  to  the  very  scene 
of  his  ovations ;  it  calls  upon  him  to  take  notice  that  Europe,  though 
silent,  is  yet  indignant ;  it  shows  him  that  the  sceptre  of  his  victory 
is  a  barren  sceptre  ;  that  it  shall  confer  neither  joy  nor  honor,  but 
shall  moulder  to  dry  ashes  in  his  grasp.  In  the  midst  of  his  exul- 
tation, it  pierces  his  ear  with  the  cry  of  injured  justice  ;  it  denounces 
against  him  the  indignation  of  an  enlightened  and  civilized  age ; 
it  turns  to  bitterness  the  cup  of  his  rejoicing,  and  wounds  him  with 
the  sting  which  belongs  to  the  consciousness  of  having  outraged 
the  opinion  of  mankind."^ 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  he  [the  painter  or  the  sculptor]  does  not 
study  his  subject?  does  he  not  make  sketches?  does  he  not  even 
call  them  'studies '?  does  he  not  call  his  workroom  a  studio?  is  he 
not  ever  designing,  rejecting,  adopting,  correcting,  perfecting  ?"'' 

In  a  sentence  that  has  unity  in  expression,  ideas  are 

not   only   homogeneous,  but   they  are  so  expressed   as 

Unity  In       ^0  appear  homogeneous  and  to  show  the  true 

expression,    relation  of  oue  to  another. 

Unity  in  expression  often  suffers  from  an  unwarranted 

change  in  the  point  of  view.     For  example :  — 

^  Daniel  Webster:  The  Revolution  in  Greece,  a  speech  in  the  House 
of  Representatives,  Jan.  19.  1824. 

-  Cardinal  Newman :  The  Idea  of  a  University ;  University  Subjects, 
Literature. 


ARRA^fGEMENT.  213 

*•  The  train  left  us  at  Russell,  and  we  climbed  to  the  rear  seat  of 
a  wagon."! 

Had  the  writer  said,  "  We  left  the  train  at  Russell,"  he  would 
have  avoided  a  clumsy  change  in  the  point  of  view. 

"/  found  my  friend  Owen  at  liberty,  and,  conscious  of  the  re- 
freshments and  purification  of  brush  and  basin,^  [he^'\  was  of 
course  a  very  different  person  from  Owen  a  prisoner,  squalid,  heart- 
broken, and  hopeless."  * 

In  this  sentence,  the  omission  of  "  was  "  would  remove  the 
difficulty. 

In  each  of  the  following  sentences,  the  italicized  words  indicate 
the  two  points  of  view  :  — 

"It  is  not  probable,  judging  from  all  Asiatic  history, that  Ahhas 
II.  will  content  himself  long  merely  with  being  sulky,  and  we  fancy 
at  the  next  explosion  it  has  been  determined  to  remove  him."  ^ 

"  /  received  the  letter  you  wrote  from  Chicago  yesterday,  and, 
without  a  moment's  delay  or  waiting  for  dinner,  proceeded  at  once 
to  Mr.  Bunsby's  office,  though  it  was  raining  at  the  time,  and  the 
clerk  said  he  had  just  telegraphed  his  acceptance."  ^ 

Unity  in  expression  sometimes  suffers  from  an  arrange- 
ment that  makes  a  grammatical  connection  between  words 
that  are  not  connected  in  thought.     For  example  :  — 

"  Being  the  belle  of  the  town,  he  lost  no  time  in  making  Miss 
McCarthy's  acquaintance."* 

This  sentence  is  so  framed  as  to  force  a  reader  to  make  the  ab- 
surd supposition  that  "  he  "  is  "  the  belle  of  the  town."  The  diffi- 
culty would  be  removed  if  the  sentence  read,  "  As  Miss  McCarthy 
was  the  belle  of  the  town,"  etc.  In  each  form  there  is  a  change  in 
the  point  of  view ;  but  in  the  second  form  the  sentence  begins  in 
such  a  way  as  to  prepare  the  reader  for  the  change. 

In  each  of  the  following  examples  the  italicized  words  are 
grammatically,  but  not  logically,  connected:  — 

1  American  magazine  ^  See  pages  164-166. 

8  See  page  70. 

*  Scott :  Rob  Roy,  vol.  ii.  cliap.  vii. 

6  The  [Londonl  Spectator,  Feb.  10,  1894,  p.  181. 

6  Student's  theme. 


214  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

"After  eating  a  hearty  dinner  our  carriages  were  brought  to  the 
door."  1 

"And,  now,  he  approached  the  great  city,  wliicli  lay  outstretched 
before  him  like  a  dark  shadow  on  the  ground,  reddening  tlie  slug- 
gish air  with  a  deep  dull  light,  that  told  of  labyrinths  of  public 
ways  and  shops,  and  swarms  of  busy  people.  Approaching  nearer 
and  nearer  yet,  ikis  halo^  began  to  fade,  and  the  causes  which  pro- 
duced it  slowly  to  develop  themselves."  * 

"This  dispatch  contained  a  proposition  to  Mr.  Phoebus  to  re- 
pair to  the  court  of  St.  Petersburgh,  and  accept  appointments  of 
high  distinction  and  emolument.  Without  in  any  way  reslricling 
the  independent  pursuit  of  his  profession,  he  was  offered  a  large 
salary."* 

'■'■Riding  on  a  mule,  clad  in  a  coarse  brown  woollen  dress,  in 
Italy  or  Spain  we  should  esteem  him  a  simple  Capuchin,  but  in 
truth  he  is  a  prelate."  ^ 

"  Losl  in  prolonged  reverie,  the  hours  flew  on."  * 
"  But  it  is  not  untrue,  the  illustration  having  come  under  the 
personal  observation  of  the  writer.  Moreover,  in  discussing  this 
subject  a  few  years  ago  with  an  officer  of  that  state,  and  a  resident 
of  one  of  its  principal  cities,  he  acknowledged  that  the  clannish 
feeling  referred  to  existed  to  some  extent  in  his  city."  ^ 

"  There  is  no  necessity  for  three  or  four  dozen  of  each  garment, 
as,  possessing  this  number,  inang  will  grow  yellow  awaiting  their 
turn  to  be  worn." 8 

The  fault  exemplified  in  these  sentences  —  the  fault  of  coupling 
a  participial  phrase  with  a  word  with  which  it  has  no  connection  in 
thought  —  is  an  offence  against  clearness  as  well  as  against  unity. 

Unity  in  expression  sometimes  suffers  from  an  arrange- 
ment which  presents  the  main  idea  of  the  sentence  in 
false  relations  with  subordinate  ideas.     For  example  :  — 

1  Student's  theme.  2  jg  this  the  proper  word  ? 

8  Dickens :  Barnaby  Rudge,  chap.  iii. 

*  Disraeli:  Lothair,  chap.  Ixxv. 

6  Ibid.:  Tancred,  book  v.  chap.  ii. 

'  Ibid.,  jjook  vi.  chap.  xi. 

'  American  newspaper. 

8  American  periodical. 


ARRANGEMENT.  215 

**  I  was  -walking  home  from  school  the  other  day  and  I  met  a 
Kttle  boy  and  girl."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  the  offence  against  unity  consists  in  making 
the  main  idea  and  the  subordinate  idea  co-ordinate  in  form.  The 
main  idea  is  in  the  second  clause;  to  make  this  idea  prominent, 
the  sentence  should  read,  "As  I  was  walking  home  from  school 
the  other  day,  I  met  a  little  boy  and  a  little  girl." 

A  similar  fault  is  committed  in  the  following  sentence:  — 

"  These  [doors]  were  opened  by  a  grim  old  Highlander  with  a 
long  white  beard,  and  displayed  a  very  steep  and  narrow  flight  of 
steps  leading  downward."  ^ 

"  The  chief  of  every  day  was  spent  by  him  at  Lucas  Lodge,  and 
he  sometimes  returned  to  Longbourn  only  in  time  to  make  an 
apology  for  his  absence  before  the  family  went  to  bed."  ^ 

In  this  sentence,  the  second  clause  is  so  framed  as  to  seem  to 
be  co-ordinate  with  the  first;  but  iu  thought  it  is  subordinate.  To 
make  this  subordination  apparent,  the  sentence  might  be  written 
thus :  "  The  chief  part  of  every  day  he  spent  at  Lucas  Lodge, 
sometimes  returning  to  Longbourn,"  etc. 

"  That  these  statements  are  true  is  not  a  matter  of  theoretical 
controversy  :  a  brief  historical  survey  will  conclusively  settle  the 
question."* 

In  this  sentence,  the  two  propositions  .separated  by  a  colon  are 
treated  as  if  they  were  of  equal  importance  and  not  closeiy  con- 
nected. Unity  as  well  as  clearness  would  be  promoted  by  recasting 
the  second  part  of  the  sentence  thus ;  "  as  a  brief  historical  survey 
will  conclusively  show." 

"  I  was  walking  along  the  street  when  I  saw  two  little  messenger 
boys  sitting  on  the  steps  and  opening  some  bundles  which  they  were 
carrying."  * 

In  this  sentence,  the  subordinate  idea  is  presented  as  the  main 
idea,  the  main  idea  as  subordinate.  To  bring  out  the  proper  rela- 
tion between  the  two  ideas,  we  might  say,  "  As  I  was  walking  along 
the  street,  I  saw,"  etc. 

'■*  Although  it  has  been  the  fashion  to  laugh  at  the  doings  of  the 

^  Student's  theme.    For  the  omission,  see  pages  146,  147. 

^  Scott :  A  Legend  of  Montrose,  chap.  xii. 

8  Miss  Austen:  Pride  and  rrejudice,  vol.  i.  chap,  xxiii. 

*  Student's  theme. 


/ 


216  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

Concord  school  as  above  the  heads  of  ordinary  mortals,  I  remembei 
being  greatly  interested  both  in  the  papers  read  and  in  the  informal 
remarks  which  followed."  ^ 

The  fault  in  this  sentence  is  that  words  which  would  make  the 
connection  of  thought  clear  are  omitted.  To  connect  the  second 
clause  with  the  first,  we  might  say,  "  my  observation  leads  me  to 
a  different  conclusion ;  for  I  was,  I  remember,  greatly  inter- 
ested," etc. 

Such  are  some  of  the  ways  in  which  the  principle  of 
unity  in  a  sentence  may  be  violated.  To  illustrate  all 
Lack  of  unity  ^^^^  varieties  of  error  that  fall  under  this 
confusion  of  ^^^^^  would  take  much  more  space  than  is  at 
thought.  Q^j,  command ;    for  sins  against  unity  spring 

from  confusion  of  thought,  and  confusion  of  thought  has 
many  forms. 


SECTION  V. 

KINDS    OF    SENTENCES. 

The  principles  which  govern  the  choice,  the  number, 
and  the  arrangement  of  words  apply  to  every  sentence, 
whatever  its  length  or  its  structure. 

In  our  day,  although  we  occasionally  see  a  sentence  of 
only  two  or  three  words  and  occasionally  one  of  two 
Short  or  long    hundred,  extremely  short  and  extremely  long 

sentences?  /~.p,  ,i         i-    ,•        ,•         i 

SENTENCES  are  rare.  Often  the  distinction  be- 
tween the  two  is  so  slight  that  a  change  in  punctuation, 
phraseology,  or  arrangement  suffices  to  put  material  that  is 
scattered  through  several  sentences  into  one,  or  material 
that  is  stretched  through  one  sentence  into  several.  When 
the  difference  is  merely  a  matter  of  punctuation,  and  still 

1  Student's  theme. 


ARRANGEMENT.  217 

more  when  it  is  a  matter  of  substance,  the  choice  between 
short  and  long  sentences  depends  partly  on  the  nature  of 
the  subject-matter  and  partly  on  the  character  of  the 
persons  addressed.  To  recommend  the  use  of  short  sen- 
tences almost  exclusively,  as  some  writers  do,  is  to  look 
at  the  subject  from  but  one  point  of  view.  The  opposite 
point  of  view  was  taken  by  Coleridge :  — 

"I  can  never  so  far  sacrifice  my  judgment  to  the  desire  of  being 
immediately  popular,  as  to  cast  my  sentences  in  the  French  moulds, 
or  aifect  a  style  which  an  ancient  critic  would  have  deemed  pur- 
posely invented  for  persons  troubled  with  the  asthma  to  read,  and 
for  those  to  comprehend  who  labour  under  the  more  pitiable  asthma 
of  a  short-witted  intellect.  ...  It  is  true  that  these  short  and  un- 
connected sentences  are  easily  and  instantly  understood  :  but  it  is 
equally  true,  that  wanting  all  the  cement  of  thought  as  well  as 
of  style,  all  the  connections,  and  (if  you  will  forgive  so  trivial  a 
metaphor)  all  the  hooks-and-eyes  of  the  memory,  they  are  as  easily 
forgotten :  or  rather,  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  they  should  be 
remembered.  Nor  is  it  less  true,  that  those  who  confine  their 
reading  to  such  books  dwarf  their  own  faculties,  and  finally  re- 
duce their  understandings  to  a  deplorable  imbecility.  .  .  .  Like 
idle  morning  visitors,  the  brisk  and  breathless  periods  hurry  in 
and  hurry  off  in  quick  and  profitless  succession ;  each  indeed  for 
the  moments  of  its  stay  prevents  the  pain  of  vacancy,  while  it  in- 
dulges the  love  of  sloth ;  but  all  together  they  leave  the  mistress 
of  the  house  (the  soul  I  mean)  flat  and  exhausted,  incapable  of  at- 
tending to  her  own  concerns,  and  unfitted  for  the  conversation  of 
more  rational  guests."  ^ 

Since  Coleridge  wrote,  the  number  of  writers  addicted 
to  short  sentences  has  increased  with  the  increase  in  the 
number  of  readers  impatient  of  delay,  eager  to  grasp  at  a 
part  of  an  idea  and  less  and  less  disposed  to  use  t/heir 
minds  in  the  effort  to  understand  a  long  sentence  that 
presents    the    idea   as    a    whole.     Short    sentences    are, 

^  Coleridge:  The  Friend,  vol.  i.  essay  iii. 
lu 


218  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

indeed,  in  such  favor  at  present  that  there  is  little 
need  of  setting  forth  the  objections  to  excessive  length. 
Very  few  writers  of  English  indulge  in  sentences  like 
those  condemned  by  De  Quincey  in  the  following  pas- 
sages :  — 

"  Every  German  regards  a  sentence  in  the  light  of  a  package, 
and  a  package  not  for  the  mail-coach  but  for  the  waggon,  iiito 
which  his  privilege  is  to  crowd  as  much  as  he  possibly  can.  Hav- 
ing framed  a  sentence,  therefore,  he  next  proceeds  to  pack  it, 
which  is  effected  partly  by  unwieldy  tails  and  codicils,  but  chiefly 
by  enoi-mous  parenthetic  involutions.  All  qualifications,  limita- 
tions, exceptions,  illustrations,  are  stuffed  and  violently  rammed 
into  the  bowels  of  the  principal  proposition.  That  all  this  equi- 
page of  accessaries  is  not  so  arranged  as  to  assist  its  own  orderly 
development  no  more  occurs  to  a  German  as  any  fault  than  that  in 
a  package  of  shawls  or  of  carpets  the  colours  and  patterns  are  not 
fully  displayed.  To  him  it  is  sufficient  that  they  are  there.  And 
Mr.  Kant,  when  he  has  succeeded  in  packing  up  a  sentence  which 
covers  three  close-printed  octavo  pages,  stops  to  draw  his  breath 
with  the  air  of  one  who  looks  back  upon  some  brilliant  and  meri- 
torious performance."  ^ 

"  Kant  was  a  great  man,  but  he  was  obtuse  and  deaf  as  an  ante- 
diluvian boulder  with  regard  to  language  and  its  capacities.  He  has 
sentences  which  have  been  measured  by  a  carpenter,  and  some  of 
them  run  two  feet  eight  by  six  inches.  jSTow,  a  sentence  with  that 
enormous  span  is  fit  only  for  the  use  of  a  megatherium  or  a  pre- 
Adamite.  Parts  so  remote  as  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  such 
a  sentence  can  have  no  sensible  relation  to  each  other."  ^ 

The  truth  is  that  a  short  sentence  is  better  for  some 
purposes,  a  long  sentence  for  others.  In  books  for  chil- 
dren short  sentences  are  a  necessity  ;  in  a  narrative,  when 
rapidity  is  required,  they  are  often  effective.  In  a  de- 
scription, and  sometimes  in  a  narrative,  long  sentences 
are  of  use  in  grouping  details  which  are  to  make  a  singie 

1  De  Quincey :  Essay  on  Rhetoric.        •  Ibid. :  Essay  on  Language. 


ARRANGEMENT.  '  219 

impression ;  in  an  exposition  or  an  argument  addressed  to 
mature  minds  they  are  often  serviceable,  especially  when 
a  writer  wishes  to  bring  a  number  of  particulars  under 
one  head.^  In  a  short  sentence,  it  is  comparatively  easy 
to  avoid  obscurity,  weakness,  and  clumsiness,  and  to  keep 
one  point  of  view ;  in  a  long  sentence,  it  is  comparatively 
easy  to  show  the  relation  with  the  context. 

In  unbroken  succession,  short  sentences  distract  or 
confuse  the  reader,  long  sentences  fatigue  him.  A  skil- 
ful writer  alternates  long  with  short,  using  the  former, 
for  the  most  part,  to  unfold  his  thought,  the  latter  to 
enforce  it.  This  is  what  Burke  does  in  a  passage  quoted 
for  another  purpose.^  After  putting  a  strain  upon  the 
reader's  attention  by  a  long  sentence,  a  skilful  writer 
relaxes  it  by  a  short  one.  This  is  what  Daniel  Webster 
does  in  the  following  passage :  — 

"  Venerable  men  !  you  have  come  down  to  us  from  a  former 
generation.  Heaven  has  bounteously  lengthened  out  your  lives, 
that  you  might  behold  this  joyous  day.  You  are  now  where  you 
stood  fifty  years  ago,  this  very  hour,  with  your  brothers  and  your 
neighbors,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  in  the  strife  for  your  country.  Be- 
hold, how  altered  !  The  same  heavens  are  indeed  over  your  heads  ; 
the  same  ocean  rolls  at  your  feet ;  but  all  else  how  changed  !  You 
hear  now  no  roar  of  hostile  cannon,  you  see  no  mixed  volumes  of 
smoke  and  flame  rising  from  burning  Charlestown.  The  ground 
strewed  with  the  dead  and  the  dying ;  the  impetuous  charge ;  the 
steady  and  successful  repulse ;  the  loud  call  to  repeated  assault ;  the 
summoning  of  all  that  is  manly  to  repeated  resistance ;  a  thousand 
bosoms  freely  and  fearlessly  bared  in  an  instant  to  whatever  of 
terror  there  may  be  in  war  and  death; — all  these  you  have  wit- 
nessed, but  you  witness  them  no  more.     All  is  peace,"  ^ 

*  See  page  212. 

2  See  pages  150,  151. 

*  Daniel  Webster:  Address  delivered  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner- 
Btone  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  .June  17,  1825. 


220  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

Another  example  is  from  Cardinal  Newman :  — 

"And  then  again,  the  first  time  the  mind  comes  across  the 
arguments  and  speculations  of  unbelievers,  and  feels  what  a  novel 
light  they  cast  upon  what  he  has  hitherto  accounted  sacred;  and 
still  more,  if  it  gives  in  to  them  and  embraces  them,  and  throws 
off  as  so  much  prejudice  what  it  has  hitherto  held,  and,  as  if 
waking  from  a  dream,  begins  to  realize  to  its  imagination  that 
there  is  now  no  such  thing  as  law  and  the  transgression  of  law, 
that  sin  is  a  phantom,  and  punishment  a  bugbear,  that  it  is  free 
to  sin,  free  to  enjoy  the  world  and  the  flesh  ;  and  still  further, 
when  it  does  enjoy  them,  and  reflects  that  it  may  think  and  hold 
just  what  it  will,  that  '  the' world  is  all  before  it  where  to  choose,' 
and  what  system  to  build  up  as  its  own  private  persuasion  ;  when 
this  torrent  of  wilful  thoughts  rushes  over  and  inundates  it,  who 
will  deny  that  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  or  what  the  mind 
takes  for  knowledge,  has  made  it  one  of  the  gods,  with  a  sense  of 
expansion  and  elevation,  —  an  intoxication  in  reality,  still,  so  far 
as  the  subjective  state  of  the  mind  goes,  an  illumination  ?  Hence 
the  fanaticism  of  individuals  or  nations,  who  suddenly  cast  off 
their  Maker."  i 

Sentences  are  either  periodic  or  loose.  The  periodic 
sentence  is  so  framed  that  the  meaning  is  suspended 
Periodic  or      till  the  end;  the  loose  sentence  is  so  framed 

loose  sen-  •       i       i 

tences?  that  it  may  be  brought  to  a  grammatical  close 

at  one  or  more  points  before  the  end.  For  examples  of 
the  periodic  sentence,  or  period,  in  its  perfection,  we  must 
go  to  languages  in  which  greater  freedom  in  arrangement 
is  allowed  than  is  possible  in  English. 

•*  An  inflected  language,"  says  Professor  Greenough,  "  generally 
nas  a  tendency  to  arrange  ideas  in  such  a  manner  that  the  main 
predicate  is  withheld  until  all  the  modifications  have  been  given, 
and  the  whole  thought  with  all  its  details  is  thus  presented  at  once 
in  an  organized  body. 

^  Cardinal  Newman :  The  Idea  of  a  University ;  University  Teaching, 
Knowledge  viewed  in  Relation  to  Learning. 


ARRANGEMENT. 


221 


"  The  following  is  an  example  of  this  sort  taken  from  the  Latin, 
which  is  especially  fond  of  this  form  :  — 

Latin.  English. 


"  Quod  autem  summae  bene- 
volentiae  est  quae  niea  erga  il- 
ium omnibus  semper  nota  fuit, 
ut  vix  C.  Marcello  optimo  et 
amantissimo  fratri  praeter  eum 
quidem  cederem  nemini  cum  id 
soUicitudine  cura  labore  tarn  diu 
praestiterim  quam  diu  est  de 
illius  salute  dubitatum  certe 
hoc  tempore  magnis  curis  mo- 
lestiis  doloribus  liberatus  prae- 
stare  debeo.^ 


"  But  as  to  this  proof  of  great 
good  will  towards  him  [i.  e.  the 
speaking  for  him],  a  good  will 
that  on  my  part  has  always 
been  known  to  everybody,  so 
much  so  that  I  hardly  yielded 
the  palm  even  to  his  most  ex- 
cellent and  affectionate  brother 
Caius  Marcellus,  and  except  him 
certainly  to  nobody,  having 
shown  this  proof  of  good  will 
(I  say)  in  my  own  anxiety,  dis- 
tress, and  trial,  all  the  time 
when  there  was  a  question  of 
his  preservation,  certainly  the 
same  proof  at  this  time  when 
I  am  relieved  from  my  great 
anxieties  and  troubles  I  am 
bound  to  show. 

"  A  sentence  in  this  form  is  called  a  period,  by  which  is  meant 
that  the  thought  is  included  in  a  circuit  or  enclosure,  instead  of 
straggling  off  without  limit.  This  form  of  presentation,  which  is 
called  the  periodic  style,  is  not  necessarily  artistic,  or  even  arti- 
ficial, but  is  simply  the  reduction  to  a  syntactic  form  of  the  details 
and  modifications  which  a  speaker  without  art  naturally  inserts  in 
parentheses  and  digressions.  This  reduction  is  accomplished  by 
the  use  of  words  which,  though  they  were  not  originally  connec- 
tives, gradually  came  to  be  felt  as  such,  and  ultimately  became 
such  grammatically. 

"  The  origin  of  the  periodic  sentence  may  be  seen  if  we  give 
in  a  popular  fashion  a  thought  presented  in  the  periodic  form 
by  Milton,  whose  writings  abound  in  periods.  The  original  is 
first  given,  and  then  the  same  substance  —  with  the  same  order 
of  ideas  but  without   any  suggestion   of  periodic  structure  —  in 

1  Cicero :  Oratio  pro  M.  Marcello,  xi.  xxxiv. 


222  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

the  form  which  it  would  take  in  the  mouth  of  an  unlettered  story- 
teller :  — 

"  '  Meanwhile  the  uew-baptized,  who  yet  remained 
At  Jordan  with  the  Baptist,  and  had  seen 
Him  whom  they  heard  so  late  expressly  called 
Jesus,  Messiah,  Son  of  God,  declared, 
And  on  that  high  authority  had  believed, 
And  with  him  talked,  and  with  him  lodged  —  I  mean 
Andrew  and  Simon,  famous  after  Icnown, 
With  others,  though  in  Holy  Writ  not  named  — 
Now  missing  him,  their  joy  so  lately  found, 
So  lately  found  and  so  abruptly  gone, 
Began  to  doubt.'  i 

"Meanwhile  these  men  thart  had  just  been  baptized  and  had 
stayed  on  at  the  Jordan  with  the  Baptist  and  seen  the  man  they  'd 
just  heard  expressly  called  Jesus  declared  Messiah,  Son  of  God  — 
and  of  course  on  such  high  authority  they  'd  believed  in  him  and 
they  'd  talked  with  him  and  stayed  in  the  house  with  him  —  I 
mean  Andrew  and  Simon  —  they  got  to  be  pretty  famous  after- 
wards,—  with  some  more,  — their  names  don't  appear  in  the  book 
though,  —  well,  all  of  a  sudden  he  was  gone  again,  —  and  so  of 
course  they  began  to  doubt."  ^ 

In  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centuries,  English 
sentences  were,  to  a  great  extent,  framed  upon  Latin 
models.  An  example  may  be  taken  from  a  sermon 
delivered  more  than  two  hundred  years  ago:  — 

"How  generally  men,  with  most^  unanimous  consent,  are  de- 
voted to  profit,  as  to  the  immediate  scope  of  their  designs  and 
aim  of  their  doings,  if  with  the  slightest  attention  we  view  what  is 
acted  on  this  theatre  of  human  affairs,  we  cannot  but  discern."* 

The  argument  against  the  use  of  long  sentences  framed 

^  Milton:  Paradise  Regained,  book  ii.  line  1. 

2  Professor  J.  I'.  Greenough,  in  a  letter  to  the  anther. 

8  See  pages  158,  159. 

*  Opening  sentence  of  Dr.  Barrow's  sermon  on  "  The  Profitableness 
of  Godliness."  Quoted  in  Austin  Phelps's  "Theory  of  Preaching," 
lect.  xvii. 


ARRANGEMENT.  223 

upon  the  model  of  Latin  periods  is  forcibly  stated  by  De 
Quincey,  an  author  who  sometimes  produced  sentences 
such  as  he  condemns: — ■ 

"  Those  who  are  not  accustomed  to  watch  the  effects  of  com. 
position  upon  the  feelings,  or  have  had  little  experience  in  volumi- 
nous reading  pursued  for  weeks,  would  scarcely  imagine  how  much 
of  downright  physical  exhaustion  is  produced  by  what  is  techni- 
cally called  the  ■periodic  style  of  writing :  it  is  not  the  length,  the 
anepavTokoyia,  the  paralytic  flux  of  words,  —  it  is  not  even  the  cum- 
brous involution  of  parts  within  parts,  —  separately  considered,  that 
bears  so  heavily  upon  the  attention.  It  is  the  suspense,  the  holding- 
on  of  the  mind  until  what  is  called  the  aTrdSoo-ts,  or  coming  round 
of  the  sentence  commences ;  this  it  is  which  wears  out  the  faculty 
of  attention.  A  sentence,  for  example,  begins  with  a  series  of  ifs, 
perhaps  a  dozen  lines  are  occupied  with  expanding  the  conditions 
under  which  something  is  affirmed  or  denied  :  here  you  cannot  dis- 
miss and  have  done  with  the  ideas  as  you  go  along,  for  as  yet  all  is 
hypothetic ;  all  is  suspended  in  air.  The  conditions  are  not  fully 
to  be  understood  until  you  are  acquainted  with  the  dependency; 
you  must  give  a  separate  attention  to  each  clause  of  this  complex 
hypothesis,  and  yet,  having  done  that  by  a  painful  effort,  you  have 
done  nothing  at  all ;  for  you  must  exercise  a  reacting  attention 
through  the  corresponding  latter  section,  in  order  to  follow  out  its 
relations  to  all  parts  of  the  hypothesis  which  sustains  it.  In  fact, 
under  the  rude  yet  also  artificial  character  of  newspaper  ^  style, 
each  separate  monster  period  is  a  vast  arch,^  which,  not  receiving 
its  keystone,  not  being  locked  into  self-supporting  cohesion,  until 
you  nearly  reach  its  close,  imposes  of  necessity  upon  the  unhappy 
reader  all  the  onua  of  its  ponderous  weight  through  the  main  process 
of  its  construction."  ^ 

The  difference  between  periodic  and  loose  sentences  in 
every-day  English  is  shown  by  the  following  examples  :  — 

1  This  is  by  no  means  a  characteristic  weakness  of  American  new* 
papers. 

^  Query  as  to  the  merit  of  this  figure. 
*  De  Quincey  :  Essay  on  Style. 


224 


RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 


Loose. 

This  was  forbidden  by  taste, 
as  well  as  by  judgment. 

He  kept  himself  alive  with 
the  fish  he  caught,  or  with  the 
goats  he  shot. 

The  world  is  not  eternal,  nor 
is  it  the  work  of  chance. 

He  looked  cold  and  was  cold. 

This  disposition  saves  him 
from  offending  his  opponents, 
and  also  from  alienating  his 
supporters. 

His  actions  were  frequently 
blamed ;  but  his  character  was 
above  reproach. 

His  word  may  be  as  good  as 
his  bond,  but  we  have  still  to 
ask  how  good  his  bond  is. 

He  can  talk  when  there 's 
anybody  worth  talking  to. 

I  shall  not  vote  for  this 
measure  unless  it  is  clearly 
constitutional. 

What  is  flour  worth  in  gold, 
if  it  costs  $10  a  barrel  in  silver? 


Periodic. 

This  was  forbidden  both  by 
taste  and  by  judgment. 

He  kept  himself  alive  either 
with  the  fish  he  caught,  or  with 
the  goats  he  shot. 

The  world  is  neither  eternal 
nor  the  work  of  chance. 

He  not  only  looked  cold,  but 
was  cold. 

This  disposition  saves  him 
on  the  one  hand  from  offend- 
ing his  opponents,  on  the  other 
hand  from  alienating  his  sup- 
porters. 

Though  his  actions  were  fre- 
quently blamed,  his  character 
was  above  reproach. 

Granting  that  his  word  is  as 
good  as  his  bond,  we  have  still 
to  ask  how  good  his  bond  is. 

When  there 's  anybody  worth 
talking  to,  he  can  talk. 

Unless  this  measure  is  clearly 
constitutional,  I  shall  not  vote 
for  it. 

If  flour  costs  $10  a  barrel  in 
silver,  what  is  it  worth  in  gold? 


These  examples  are  enough  to  show  the  difference  in  short  sen- 
tences between  the  loose  and  the  periodic  form.  In  some  of  them 
the  periodic  form  seems  preferable  to  the  loose,  in  others  the  loose 
to  the  periodic.  Sometimes  the  best  form  is  that  which  is  neither 
wholly  loose  nor  wholly  periodic. 


"  We  came  to  our  journey's 
end,  at  last,  with  no  small  dif- 
ficulty, after  much  fatigue, 
through  deep  roads,  and  bad 
weather." 


"  At  last,  with  no  small  dif- 
ficulty, after  much  fatigue, 
through  deep  roads,  and  bad 
weather,  we  came  to  our  jour- 
ney's end." 


AKRANGEMENT.  225 

The  loose  form  of  this  sentence  is  objectionable  because  it  is 
BO  very  loose  that  it  might  end  at  any  one  of  tlie  five  commas ;  the 
periodic  form  is  objectionable  because,  long  before  the  enumera- 
tion of  the  qualifying  circumstances  is  finished,  the  reader  becomes 
impatient  to  learn  what  the  fact  is  that  requires  so  much  introduc- 
tion. We  may  escape  the  disadvantages  of  the  loose  form,  and 
diminish  those  of  the  periodic,  by  placing  a  portion  of  the  pred- 
icate in  the  midst  of  the  qualifying  circumstances:  — 

"  At  last,  after  much  fatigue,  through  deep  roads  and  bad 
weather,  we  came,  with  no  small  difficulty,  to  our  journey's  end."  ^ 

"At  last,  with  no  small  difficulty,  and  after  much  fatigue,  we 
came,  through  deep  roads  and  bad  weather,  to  our  journey's 
end."  2 

Still  further  to  illustrate  the  distinction  between 
periodic  and  loose  sentences,  an  effective  example  of 
each  kind  may  be  quoted:  — 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  when  the  clouds 
and  storms  had  come,  when  the  gay  sensuous  pagan  life  was  gone, 
when  men  were  not  living  by  the  senses  and  understanding,  when 
they  were  looking  for  the  speedy  coming  of  Antichrist,  there  ap- 
peared in  Italy,  to  the  north  of  Rome,  in  the  beautiful  Umbrian 
country  at  the  foot  of  the  Apennines,  a  figure  of  the  most  magical 
power  and  charm,  St.  Francis."  ^ 

"  The  only  other  wish  on  my  part  is  that  the  ground  shall  be 
called  '  The  Soldier's  Field,'  and  marked  with  a  stone  bearing  the 
names  of  some  dear  friends,  —  alumni  of  the  University,  and  noble 
gentlemen,  —  who  gave  freely  and  eagerly  all  that  they  had  or 
hoped  for,  to  their  country  and  to  their  fellowmen  in  the  hour 
of  great  need  —  the  war  of  18G1  to  1865  in  defence  of  the  Re- 
public." •» 

1  Whately:  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  xii. 

2  Herbert  Spencer :  The  Philosophy  of  Style.  Which  of  these  two 
forms  is  the  better?     See  page  183. 

3  Matthew  Arnold:  Essays  in  Criticism;  Pagan  and  Medi£eval  Reli- 
gious Sentiment. 

•!  I.ettcr  of  Henry  L.  Higginson  to  the  President  and  Fellows  of  Har- 
vard College,  June  5,  1 890. 
lU'' 


226  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

For  a  thorough  study  of  the  advantages  and  the  dis- 
advantages of  loose  and  of  periodic  sentences,  it  would 
be  necessary  to  compare  passages  from  good  writers  at 
greater  length  than  is  practicable  in  this  book.  Such  a 
comparison  would  show  that  authors  whose  style  has  the 
freedom  and  ease  of  familiar  conversation  prefer  loose 
sentences,  and  that  those  whose  style  is  more  formal  and 
rhetorical  prefer  periodic.  It  would  show,  too,  that 
writers  of  the  first  class  diversify  their  pages  by  an 
occasional  period,  and  those  of  the  second  by  an  occa- 
sional loose  sentence. 

The  only  other  kind  of  sentence  to  be  considered  is  the 
BALANCED  SENTENCE,  —  that  is,  the  sentence  in  which  the 
Balanced  sen-  words  and  plirases  of  one  part  correspond  in 
tences.  form  and  in  position  with  those  of  another  part. 

The  balance  is  greater  or  less  according  as  this  correspon- 
dence is  more  or  less  exact,  and  according  as  it  extends 
to  a  larger  or  a  smaller  part  of  the  sentence.  Balanced 
sentences  often  contain  antithetical  words  or  clauses  ;  but 
even  when  they  do  not,  their  advantages  and  disadvan- 
tages are  similar  to  those  of  antithesis.^  Dr.  Johnson's 
well-known  parallel  between  Dryden  and  Pope  is  full  of 
balanced  sentences.     It  ends  as  follows :  — 

"If  the  flights  of  Dryden  therefore  are  higher,  Pope  continues 
longer  on  the  wing.  If  of  Dryden's  fire  the  blaze  is  brighter,  of 
Pope's  the  heat  is  more  regular  and  constant.  Dryden  often  sur- 
passes expectation,  and  Pope  never  falls  below  it.  Dryden  is  read 
with  frequent  astonishment,  and  Pope  with  perpetual  delight."  ^ 

Other  examples  of  balanced  sentences  are :  — 

"  The  stars  that  fall  on  the  earth  are  not  stars  of  eternal  light ; 
they  are  not  our  hope ;  they  are  not  our  guidance ;  they  ofteu 
blight;  they  never  purify."' ^ 

1  See  pages  183-192.  2  Johnson  :  Lives  of  the  Poets  ;  Pope. 

8  Landor:  Conversations,  Fourth  Series;  Dante  and  Gemma  DonatL 


ARRANGEMENT.  227 

"  It  Is  not  easy  to  count  the  stately  churches  and  palaces  that 
were  reduced  to  a  smoking  ruin,  to  value  the  merchandise  that  per- 
ished in  the  trading  streets,  or  to  number  the  families  that  were 
involved  in  the  common  destruction."  ^ 

"  Our  poor  work  may  perish ;  but  thine  shall  endure  !  This 
monument  may  moulder  away;  the  solid  ground  it  rests  upon 
may  sink  down  to  a  level  <\'ith  the  sea;  but  thy  memory  shall 
■  not  fail !  "  2 

"  So  that,  although  St.  Bernard  journeys  all  day  by  the  \a\s.e  of 
Geneva,  and  asks  at  evening  '  where  it  is,'  and  Byron  learns  by  it 
'to  love  earth  only  for  its  earthly  sake,' ^  it  does  not  follow  that 
Byron,  hating  men,  was  the  worse  for  loving  the  earth,  nor  that 
St.  Bernard,  loving  men,  was  the  better  or  wiser  for  being  blind 
to  it."* 

"  By-Ends.  Why  they  after  their  head-strong  manner,  conclude 
that  it  is  duty  to  rush  on  their  Journey  all  weathers,  and  I  am  for 
■waiting  for  Wind  and  Tide.  They  are  for  hazarding  all  for  God  at 
a  clap,  and  I  am  for  taking  all  advantages  to  secure  my  Life  and 
Estate.  They  are  for  holding  their  notions,  though  all  other  men 
are  against  them ;  but  I  am  for  Religion  in  what,  and  so  far  as  the 
times  and  my  safety  will  bear  it.  They  are  for  Religion  when 
in  Rags  and  Contempt ;  but  I  am  for  him  when  he  walks  in  his 
Golden  Slippers  in  the  Sun-shine,  and  with  applause."  ^ 

These  examples  are  enough  to  show  how  the  balanced 
structure  brings  out  the  meaning  of  a  sentence  by  em- 
phasizing the  contrast  between  opposing  views,  or  be- 
tween two  sides  of  a  thought.  When  not  carried  to  excess, 
the  balanced  structure  is  agreeable  to  the  ear,  is  a  help  to 
the  memory,  and  gives  emphasis  to  each  of  the  balanced 
expressions:  when  carried  to  excess,  it  produces  upon  the 
reader  the  monotonous  effect  of  rhythm  without  its  charm  ; 
and  it  may  lead  to  a  sacrifice  of  strict  truth. 

1  Edward  Gibltou :  The  Decline  and  Fall  of  the  Roman  Empire,  chnp.  Ix 

2  Daniel  Webster:  Address  delivered  at  the  Laying  of  the  Corner 
Etone  of  the  Bunker  Hill  Monument,  .Tune  17,  1825. 

8  Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,  canto  iii  stanza  Ixxi. 
^  Raskin  :  Modern  Painters,  vol.  iii  part  iv.  chap  xvii. 
6  John  Bunyan ;  The  Pilgrim's  Progress,  part  i. 


228  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

From  what  has  been  said,  it  is  evident  that  no  one 
kind  of  sentence  is  preferable  to  another.  To  hold  either 
Each  kind  of     that  sliort  sentences  are  better  than  long,  or 

sentence  has  •     t-  i     ^i         ^i  i 

itsuse.  that  periodic  sentences  are  better  than  loose,  is 

to  impose  on  a  writer  an  artificial  restraint  which  is  almost 
sure  to  cramp  his  individuality  and  to  injure  his  style. 
Each  kind  of  sentence  has  its  place.  Each  kind  a  master ' 
of  the  art  of  expression  uses  according  to  his  needs.  Pos- 
sessing all  available  means,  he  chooses  the  right  means  at 
the  right  moment  and  uses  them  in  the  right  way.  One 
of  the  secrets,  if  not  the  one  secret,  of  good  writing  lies  in 
the  perfect  adaptation  of  means  to  end. 

Were  there  space,  it  would  be  easy  to  show  that  the 
practice  of  good  writers  conforms  to  these  principles.  All 
that  can  be  done  here  is  to  give  three  examples :  — 

"  The  Americans  have  many  virtues,  but  thsy  have  not  Faith 
and  Hope.  1  know  no  two  words  whose  meaning  is  more  lost 
sight  of.  We  use  these  words  as  if  they  were  as  obsolete  as  Selah 
and  Amen.  And  yet  they  have  the  broadest  meaning,  and  the  most 
cogent  application  to  Boston  in  this  year.  The  Americans  have 
little  faith.  They  rely  on  the  power  of  a  dollar ;  they  are  deaf  to 
a  sentiment.  They  think  you  may  talk  the  north  wind  down  as 
easily  as  raise  society ;  and  no  class  more  faithless  than  the  scholars 
or  intellectual  men.  Now  if  I  talk  with  a  sincere  wise  man,  and 
my  fnend,  with  a  poet,  with  a  conscientious  youth  who  is  still 
under  the  dominion  of  his  own  wild  thoughts,  and  not  yet  har- 
nessed in  the  team  of  society  to  drag  with  us  all  in  the  ruts  of 
custom,  1  see  at  once  how  paltry  is  all  this  generation  of  unbe- 
lievers, and  what  a  house  of  cards  their  institutions  are,  and  I 
see  what  one  brave  man,  what  one  great  thought  executed  might 
effect."! 

"  In  the  beginning  of  the  thirteenth  century,  when  the  clouds 
and  storms  had  come,  when  the  gay  sensuous  pngan  lifp  was  gone, 

1  Emerson  :  Man  the  Reformer.  This  paragraph  shows  that  even 
Emerson,  who  is  addicted  to  short  sentences,  feels  now  and  then  the 
necessity  of  introducing  a  long  one. 


ARRANGEMENT.  229 

when  men  were  not  living  by  the  senses  and  understanding,  when 
they  were  looking  for  the  speedy  coming  of  Antichrist,  there 
appeared  in  Italy,  to  the  north  of  Rome,  in  the  beautiful  Umbrian 
country  at  the  foot  of  the  Apennines,  a  figure  of  the  most  magical 
power  and  charm,  St.  Francis.  His  century  is,  I  think,  the  most 
interesting  in  the  history  of  Christianity  after  its  primitive  age ; 
more  interesting  than  even  the  century  of  the  Reformation  ;  and 
one  of  the  chief  figures,  perhaps  the  very  chief,  to  which  this  in- 
terest attaches  itself,  is  St.  Francis.  And  why?  Because  of  the 
profound  popular  instinct  wliich  enabled  him,  more  than  any  man 
since  the  primitive  age,  to  fit  religion  for  popular  use.  He  brought 
religion  to  the  people.  He  founded  the  most  popular  body  of 
ministers  of  religion  that  has  ever  existed  in  the  Church.  He 
transformed  monachism  by  uprooting  the  stationary  monk,  de- 
livering him  from  the  bondage  of  property  and  sending  him,  as  a 
mendicant  friar,  to  be  a  stranger  and  sojourner,  not  in  the  wilder- 
ness, but  in  the  most  crowded  haunts  of  men,  to  console  them  and 
to  do  them  good.  This  popular  instinct  of  his  is  at  the  bottom  of 
his  famous  marriage  with  poverty.  Poverty  and  suffering  are  the 
condition  of  the  people,  the  multitude,  the  immense  majority  of 
mankind ;  and  it  was  towards  this  people  that  his  soul  yearned. 
« He  listens,'  it  was  said  of  him,  '  to  those  to  whom  God  himself 
will  not  listen.'  "  ^ 

"  As  far  as  I  am  acquainted  with  modern  architecture,  I  am 
aware  of  no  streets  which,  in  simplicity  and  manliness  of  style,  or 
general  breadth  and  brightness  of  effect,  equal  those  of  the  New 
Town  of  Edinburgh.  But  yet  I  am  well  persuaded  that  as  you 
traverse  those  streets,  your  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pride  in  them 
are  much  complicated  with  those  which  are  excited  entirely  by  the 
surrounding  scenery.  As  you  walk  up  or  down  George  Street,  for 
instance,  do  you  not  look  eagerly  for  every  opening  to  the  north 
and  south,  wliich  lets  in  the  lustre  of  the  Firth  of  Forth,  or  the 
rugged  outline  of  the  Castle  Rock?  Take  away  the  sea-waves, 
and  the  dark  basalt,  and  I  fear  you  would  find  little  to  interest 
you  in  George  Street  by  itself.  Now  T  remember  a  city,  more 
nobly  placed  than  even  your  Edinburgh,  which,  instead  of  the 
valley  that  you  have  now  filled  by  lines  of  railroad,  has  a  broad 

1  Matthew  Arnold :  Essays  in  Criticism ;  Pagan  and  Mediaeval  Rell 
giouo  Sentiment. 


230  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

and  rushing  river  of  blue  water  sweeping  through  the  heart  of  it ; 
which,  for  the  dark  and  solitary  rock  that  bears  your  castle,  has 
an  amphitheatre  of  cliffs  crested  with  cypresses  and  olive  ;  which, 
for  the  two  masses  of  Arthur's  Seat  and  the  ranges  of  the  Pent- 
lands,  has  a  chain  of  blue  mountains  higher  than  the  haughtiest 
peaks  of  your  Highlands ;  and  which,  for  your  far-away  Beu  l^edi 
and  Beu  More,  has  the  great  central  chain  of  the  St.  Gothard  Alps  : 
and  yet,  as  you  go  out  of  the  gates,  and  walk  in  the  suburban 
streets  of  that  city  —  1  mean  Verona  —  the  eye  never  seeks  to  rest 
on  that  exterual  scenery,  however  gorgeous ;  it  does  not  look  for 
the  gaps  between  the  houses,  as  you  do  here ;  it  may  for  a  few 
moments  follow  the  broken  line  of  the  great  Alpine  battlements  ; 
but  it  is  only  where  they  form  a  background  for  other  battle- 
ments, built  by  the  hand  of  man.  There  is  no  necessity  felt  to 
dwell  on  the  blue  river  or  the  burning  hills.  The  heart  and  eye 
have  enough  to  do  in  the  streets  of  the  city  itself;  they  are  con- 
tented there ;  nay,  they  sometimes  turn  from  the  natural  scenery, 
as  if  too  savage  and  solitary,  to  dwell  with  a  deeper  interest  on  the 
palace  walls  that  cast  their  shade  upon  the  streets,  and  the  crowd 
of  towers  that  rise  out  of  that  shadow  into  the  depth  of  the  sky."  * 


SECTION  VI. 

PARAGRAPHS. 

The  usefulness  of  division  by  paragraphs  as  a  mere 
mechanical  device  is  apparent  to  every  one  who  has  tried 
Meaning  and     to  lead  pagos  of  print  or  of  manuscript  that 

value  of  parv  ,,  ji^  it  •    j. 

graphs.  are  unbroken,  or  that  are  broken  into  many 

small  fragments.      The  unbroken  text  tires  the  eye  in 
one  way ;  the  text  too  frequently  broken,  in  another. 

If  the  sole  use  of  paragraphs  were  to  rest  the  eye,  as  a 
speaker's  changes  of  tone  rest  the  ear,  there  would  be 
little  difficulty  in  determining  their  length  or  their  struct- 

^  Ruskin:  Lectures  on  Architecture  and  Painting,  delivered  at  Edin- 
burgh in  November,  1853,  lecture  i. 


ARRANGEMENT.  231 

ure;  but  if  their  main  function  is  to  mark  changes  in 
thought,  and  thus  help  the  reader  to  follow  a  writer  step 
by  step,  puzzling  questions  as  to  their  length  or  their 
structure  must  sometimes  arise. 

Paragraphs  are  to  sentences  what  sentences  are  to 
words.  A  paragraph,  like  a  sentence,  should  be  a  unit 
in  substance  and  in  expression,  and  should  be  developed 
with  clearness,  with  force,  and  with  ease. 

To  secure  clearness  in  a  paragraph,  a  writer  should 
suggest  in  the  first  sentence  the  main  idea  of  the  para- 
graph and  the  point  of  view  from  which  it  is 

.  .  Clearness. 

to  be  considered,  or  should  at  least  indicate  the 
direction  in  which  the  thought  is  to  move ;  and  he  should 
arrange  his  sentences  in  logical  order,  so  that  each  shall 
contribute  to  the  development  of  the  idea  which  is  ex- 
pressed by  the  paragraph  as  a  whole,  and  shall  occupy  the 
place  in  which  it  can  be  clearly  understood  both  in  itself 
and  in  its  relations  to  the  rest  of  the  paragraph.  If  a 
sentence  can  be  put  in  one  lAiice  as  well  as  in  another, 
there  is  a  defect  somewhere,  and  usually  a  defect  of  such 
gravity  that  it  cannot  be  remedied  unless  the  sentence, 
if  not  the  paragraph,  is  recast. 

"  We  may  take  the  opportunity,"  writes  De  Quincey,  "  of  noticing 
what  it  is  that  constitutes  the  peculiar  and  characterizing  circum- 
stance in  Burke's  manner  of  composition.  It  is  this  :  that  under 
his  treatment  every  truth,  be  it  what  it  may,  every  thesis  of  a  sen 
tence,  fjrotvs  in  the  very  act  of  unfolding  it.  .  .  .  whatever  may 
have  been  the  preconception,  it  receives  a  new  determination  or  in- 
flexion at  every  clause  of  the  sentence.  .  .  .  Hence,  whilst  a  writer 
of  Dr.  Johnson's  class  seems  only  to  look  back  upon  liis  thoughts, 
Burke  looks  forward,  and  does  in  fact  advance  and  change  his 
own  station  concurrently  with  the  advance  of  the  sentences."  ^ 

1  De  Qnincey  :  Essay  on  Rhetoric,  note. 


232  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

The  following  example  of  clearness  in  a  paragraph 
comes  from  Hawthorne  :  — 

'•  Half-way  down  a  by-street  of  one  of  our  New  England  towns 
stands  a  rusty  wooden  house,  with  seven  acutely  peaked  gables, 
facing  towards  vai'ious  points  of  the  compass,  and  a  huge,  clustered 
chimney  in  the  midst.  The  street  is  Pyncheon  Street;  the  house  is 
the  old  Pyncheon  House ;  and  an  elm-tree,  of  wide  circumference, 
rooted  before  the  door,  is  familiar  to  every  town-born  child  by  the 
title  of  the  Pyncheon  Elm.  On  my  occasional  visits  to  the  town 
aforesaid,  I  seldom  failed  to  turn  down  Pyncheon  Street,  for  the 
sake  of  passing  through  the  shadow  of  these  two  antiquities,  —  the 
great  elm-tree  and  the  weather-beaten  edifice."  ^ 

Another  example  comes  from  Macaulay :  — 

"The  characteristic  peculiarity  of  his  [Johnson's]  intellect  was 
the  union  of  great  powers  with  low  prejudices.  If  we  judged  of  him 
by  the  best  parts  of  his  mind,  we  should  place  him  almost  as  high 
as  he  was  placed  by  the  idolatry  of  Boswell ;  if  by  the  worst  parts 
of  his  mind,  we  should  place  him  even  below  Boswell  himself. 
Where  he  was  not  under  the  influence  of  some  strange  scruple,  or 
some  domineering  passion,  which  prevented  him  from  boldly  and 
fairly  investigating  a  subject,  he  was  a  wary  and  acute  reasoner, 
a  little  too  much  inclined  to  scepticism,  and  a  little  too  fond  of 
paradox.  No  man  was  less  likely  to  be  imposed  upon  by  fallacies  in 
argument  or  by  exaggerated  statements  o(  fact.  But  if,  while  he  was 
beating  down  sophisms  and  exposing  false  testimony,  some  childish 
prejudices,  such  as  would  excite  laughter  in  a  well  managed  nur- 
sery, came  across  him,  he  was  smitten  as  if  by  enchantment.  His 
mind  dwindled  away  under  the  spell  from  gigantic  elevation  to 
dwarfish  littleness.  Those  who  had  lately  been  admiring  its  ampli- 
tude and  its  force  were  now  as  much  astonished  at  its  rtrange  nar- 
rowness and  feebleness  as  the  fisherman  in  the  Arabian  tale,  when 
he  saw  the  Genie,  whose  stature  had  overshadowed  the  whole  sea- 
coast,  and  whose  might  seemed  equal  to  a  contest  with  armies, 
contract  himself  to  the  dimensions  of  his  small  prison,  and  lie 
there  the  helpless  slave  of  the  charm  of  Solomon."  2 

1  Hawthorne :  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables,  chap.  i. 

2  Macaulay :  Essays ;  Boswell's  Life  of  Joimson. 


ARUAXGEMENT.  233 

To  secure  force  in  a  paragraph,  a  writer  should  make 
the  main  idea  prominent,  and  should  keep  subordinate 
ideas  in  the  background ;    and  he  should  so 

°  Force. 

arrange  his  sentences  that  the  paragraph  shall 

move  from  the  less  important  and  less  interesting  to  the 

more  important  and  more  interesting,  and  thus  form  a 

climax. 

The  following  example  of  force  in  a  paragraph  comes 
from  Euskin :  — 

"  Having,  then,  resolved  that  you  will  not  waste  recklessly,  but 
earnestly  use,  these  early  days  of  yours,  remember  that  all  the 
duties  of  her  children  to  England  may  be  summed  in  two  words 
—  industry,  and  honour.  1  say,  first,  industry,  for  it  is  in  this 
that  soldier  youth  are  especially  tempted  to  tail.  Yet,  surely, 
there  is  no  reason,  because  your  lite  may  possibly  or  probably  be 
shorter  than  other  men's,  that  you  should  therefore  waste  more 
recklessly  the  portion  of  it  that  is  granted  you;  neither  do  the 
duties  of  your  profession,  which  require  you  to  keep  your  bodies 
strong,  in  any  wise  involve  the  keeping  of  your  minds  weak.  So 
far  from  that,  the  experience,  the  hardship,  and  the  activity  of 
a  soldier's  life  render  his  powers  of  thought  more  accurate  than 
those  of  other  men ;  and  Vv'hile,  for  others,  all  knowledge  is  often 
little  more  than  a  means  of  amusement,  there  is  no  form  of  sci- 
ence which  a  soldier  may  not  at  some  time  or  other  find  bearing 
on  business  of  life  and  death.  A  young  mathematician  may  be 
excused  for  languor  in  studying  curves  to  be  described  only  with  a 
pencil;  but  not  in  tracing  those  which  are  to  be  described  with  a 
rocket.  Your  knowledge  of  a  wholesome  herb  may  involve  the 
feeding  of  an  army ;  and  acquaintance  with  an  obscure  point  of 
geography,  the  success  of  a  campaign.  Never  waste  an  instant's 
time,  therefore :  the  sin  of  idleness  is  a  thousand-fold  greater  in 
you  than  in  other  youths ;  for  the  fates  of  those  who  will  one  day 
be  under  your  command  hang  upon  your  knowledge ;  lost  moments 
now  will  be  lost  lives  then,  and  every  instant  which  you  carelessly 
take  for  play,  you  buy  with  blood."  ^ 

1  Ruskin :  The  Crown  of  Wild  Olive ;  War. 


234  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

The  last  sentence  of  a  paragraph  should  bring  out  the 
point  of  the  whole  effectively,  and  it  may  sum  up  all 
that  has  been  said  in  the  paragraph  which  it  ends.  In 
the  discussion  of  a  difficult  problem  or  the  elucidation  of 
a  profound  thought,  or  in  a  persuasive  discourse  of  any 
kind,  such  a  sentence  at  the  end  of  a  paragraph,  particu- 
larly if  the  paragraph  be  a  long  one,  is  of  especial  value ; 
the  reader,  having  received  a  full  explanation  of  the 
writer's  meaning,  is  ready  for  the  thought  in  a  portable 
form.  The  value  of  such  a  sentence  appears  in  the  fol- 
lowing paragraph  from  Carlyle :  — 

"  Consider  his  [an  editor's]  leading  articles ;  what  they  treat  of, 
how  passably  they  are  done.  Straw  that  has  been  thrashed  a  hun- 
dred times  without  wheat ;  ephemeral  sound  of  a  sound ;  such 
portent  of  the  hour  as  all  men  have  seen  a  hundred  times  turn  out 
inane :  how  a  man,  with  merely  human  faculty,  buckles  hiniselt 
nightly  with  new  vigour  and  interest  to  this  thrashed  straw, 
nightly  thrashes  it  anew,  nightly  gets-up  new  thunder  about  it; 
and  so  goes  on  thrashing  and  thundering  for  a  considerable  series 
of  years ;  this  is  a  fact  remaining  still  to  be  accounted  for,  in  hu- 
man physiology.     The  vitality  of  man  is  great."  * 

To  secure  ease  in  a  paragraph,  a  writer  should  have 

ease  not  only  in  the  sentences  of  which  the  paragraph  is 

composed,  but  also  in  the  movement  from  sen- 
Ease.  '^ 

fence  to  sentence.  Sometimes  he  may  gain 
ease  in  transition  by  repeating  a  word,  sometimes  by  using 
a  conjunction  or  other  particle  which  makes  the  connec- 
tion plain.  The  more  he  varies  his  methods,  the  less 
likely  he  is  to  call  attention  to  them.  If  he  achieves  the 
result  without  betraying  the  processes,  he  is  justly  said 
to  have  "a  flowing  style."      "In  Shakspeare  one  sentence 

1  Carlyle:  Miscellanies;  Sir  Walter  Scott.  For  other  e.xamples,  see 
pages  150,  151. 


ARRANGEMENT.  235 

begets  the  next  naturally ;  the  meaning  is  all  inwoven. 
He  goes  on  kindling  like  a  meteor  through  the  dark  at- 
mosphere." ^  A  style  characterized  by  the  corresponding 
demerit  is  well  described,  by  a  homely  French  metaphor, 
as  ddcousu,  —  a  thing  of  shreds  and  patches  ;  or,  to  change 
the  figure,  "  the  sentences  in  a  page  have  the  same  con- 
nection with  each  other  that  marbles  have  in  a  bag ;  they 
touch  without  adhering."  ^ 

The  following  passage  from  George  Eliot,  though  not 
remarkable  for  ease  in  the  construction  of  sentences, 
is  a  good  example  of  ease  in  transition  from  sentence 
to  sentence  and  from  paragraph  to  paragraph :  — 

"  But  the  sound  of  a  sharp  bark  inside,  as  Eppie  put  the  key  in 
the  door,  )nodified  the  donkey's  views,  and  he  limped  away  again 
without  bidding.  The  sharp  bark  was  the  sign  of  an  excited  wel- 
come that  was  awaiting  them  from  a  knowing  brown  terrier,  who, 
after  dancing  at  their  legs  in  a  hysterical  manner,  rushed  with  a 
worrying  noise  at  a  tortoise-shell  kitten  under  the  loom,  and  then 
rushed  back  with  a  sharp  bark  again,  as  much  as  to  say,  '  I  have 
done  my  duty  by  this  feeble  creature,  you  perceive;'  while  the 
lady-mother  of  the  kitten  sat  sunning  her  white  bosom  in  the 
window,  and  looked  round  with  a  sleepy  air  of  expecting  caresses, 
though  she  was  not  going  to  take  any  trouble  for  them. 

"  The  presence  of  this  happy  animal  life  was  not  the  only  change 
which  had  come  over  the  interior  of  the  stone  cottage."  * 

The  following  paragraph  from  Cardinal  Newman  is  an 
excellent  example  of  ease  at  all  points :  — 

"  It  is  a  great  point  then  to  enlarge  the  range  of  studies  which 
a  University  professes,  even  for  the  sake  of  the  students ;  and, 
though  they  cannot  pursue  every  subject  which  is  open  to  them, 
they  will  be  the  gainers  by  living  among  those  and  under  those 
who  represent  the  whole  circle.  This  I  conceive  to  be  the  advan- 
tage of  a  seat  of  universal  learning,  considered  as  a  place  of  edu- 
cation.    An  assemblage  of  learned  men,  zealous  for  their  own 

*  Coleridge:  Table  Talk.     ^  George  Eliot:  Silas  Marner,  chap.  xvi. 


236  RHETORICAL   1-:XCELLENCE. 

sciences,  and  rivals  of  each  other,  are  brought,  by  familiar  inter- 
course and  for  the  sake  of  intellectual  peace,  to  adjust  together  the 
claims  and  relations  of  their  respective  subjects  of  investigation. 
They  learn  to  respect,  to  consult,  to  aid  each  other.  Thus  is 
created  a  pure  and  clear  atmosphere  of  thought,  which  the  stu- 
dent also  breathes,  though  in  his  own  case  he  only  ^  pursues  a 
few  sciences  out  of  the  multitude.  He  profits  by  an  intel- 
lectual tradition,  which  is  independent  of  particular  teachers, 
which  guides  him  in  his  choice  of  subjects,  and  duly  interprets 
for  him  those  which  he  chooses.  He  apprehends  the  great 
outlines  of  knowledge,  the  principles  on  which  it  rests,  the 
scale  of  its  parts,  its  lights  and  its  shades,  its  great  points 
and  its  little,  as  he  otherwise  cannot  apprehend  them.  Hence 
it  is  that  his  education  is  called  '  Liberal.'  A  habit  of  mind 
is  formed  which  lasts  through  life,  of  which  the  attributes  are, 
freedom,  equitableuess,  calmness,  moderation,  and  wisdom ;  or 
what  in  a  former  Discourse  I  have  ventured  to  call  a  philosopliical 
habit.  This  then  I  would  assign  as  the  special  fruit  of  the  educa- 
tion furnished  at  a  University,  as  contrasted  with  other  places  of 
teaching  or  modes  of  teaching.  This  is  the  main  purpose  of  a 
University  in  its  treatment  of  its  students."  ^ 

To  secure  unity  in  a  paragraph,  a  writer  should  con- 
form to  the  general  principles  that  secure  unity  in  a  sen- 
tence.    A  paragraph,  like  a  sentence,  should 

Unity.  .  '^ 

contain  one  mam  idea,  should  admit  nothing 
that  is  not  germane  to  that  idea,  and  should  be  so  framed 
as  to  present  a  well-rounded  whole.  In  the  following 
passage  from  Hawthorne  each  paragraph  is  a  unit:  — 

"  One  afternoon,  when  the  sun  was  going  down,  a  mother  and 
her  little  boy  sat  at  the  door  of  their  cottage,  talking  about  the 
Great  Stone  Face.  They  had  but  to  lift  their  eyes,  and  there  it 
was  plainly  to  be  seen,  though  miles  away,  with  the  sunshine 
brightening  all  its  features. 

^  See  page  179. 

2  Cardiual  Newman :  The  Idea  of  a  University ;  University  Teaching, 
Knowledge  its  Own  End. 


ARRANGEMENT.  237 

"And  what  was  the  Great  Stone  Face? 

<'  Embosomed  amongst  a  family  of  lofty  mountains,  thei-e  was  a 
valley  so  spacious  that  it  contained  many  thousand  inhabitants. 
Some  of  these  good  people  dwelt  in  log-huts,  with  the  black  forest 
all  around  them,  on  the  steep  and  difticult  hill-sides.  Others  had 
their  homes  in  comfortable  farm-houses,  and  cultivated  the  rich 
sci\  on  the  gentle  slopes  or  level  surfaces  of  the  valley.  Others, 
again,  were  congregated  into  populous  villages,  where  some  wild, 
highland  rivulet,  tumbling  down  from  its  birthplace  in  the  upper 
mountain  region,  had  been  caught  and  tamed  by  human  cunning, 
and  compelled  to  turn  the  machinery  of  cotton-factories.  The  in- 
habitants of  this  valley,  in  short,  wei-e  numerous,  and  of  many 
modes  of  life.  But  all  of  them,  grown  people  and  children,  had  a 
kind  of  familiarity  with  the  Great  Stone  Face,  although  some  pos- 
sessed the  gift  of  distinguishing  this  grand  natural  phenomenon 
more  perfectly  than  many  of  their  neighbors. 

"The  Great  Stone  Face,  then,  was  a  work  of  Nature  in  her 
mood  of  majestic  playfulness,  formed  on  the  perpendicular  side 
of  a  mountain  by  some  immense  rocks,  which  had  been  thrown 
together  in  such  a  position  as,  when  viewed  at  a  proper  distance, 
precisely  to  resemble  the  features  of  the  human  countenance.  It 
seemed  as  if  an  enormous  giant,  or  a  Titan,  had  sculptured  his  own 
likeness  on  the  precipice.  There  was  the  broad  arch  of  the  fore- 
head, a  hundred  feet  in  height ;  the  nose,  with  its  long  bridge  ;  and 
the  vast  lips,  which,  if  they  could  have  spoken,  would  have  rolled 
their  thunder  accents  from  one  end  of  the  valley  to  the  other. 
True  it  is,  that  if  the  spectator  approached  too  near,  he  lost  the 
outline  of  the  gigantic  visage,  and  could  discern  only  a  heap  of 
ponderous  and  gigantic  rocks,  piled  in  chaotic  ruin  one  upon  an- 
other. Retracing  his  steps,  however,  the  wondrous  features  would 
again  be  seen;  and  the  farther  he  withdrew  from  them,  the  more 
like  a  human  face,  with  all  its  original  divinity  intact,  did  they 
appear;  until,  as  it  grew  dim  in  the  distance,  with  the  clouds  and 
glorified  vapor  of  the  mountains  clustei'ing  about  it,  the  Great 
Stone  Face  seemed  positively  to  be  alive."  ^ 

This  passage  shows  that  it  matters  not  how  many  sentences 
ft  paragraph  contains,  provided  the  paragraph  is  a  unit. 

1  Hawthorne :  Twice-Told  Tales ;  The  Great  Stone  Face. 


238  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

The  following  paragraph  contains  heterogeneous  mat- 
ter, and  is  therefore  not  a  unit :  — 

"  Soon  her  absorbing  desire  was  to  be  altogether  shut  up  with 
Mary,  except  on  Sundays  and  at  practising  times.  For  this  purpose 
she  gave  herself  the  worst  cold  she  could  achieve,  and  cherished  dili- 
gently what  she  proudly  considered  to  be  a  racking  cough.  But 
Miss  Frederick  was  deaf  to  the  latter,  and  only  threatened  the 
usual  upstairs  seclusion  and  senna-tea  for  the  former,  whereupon 
IMarcella  in  alarm  declared  that  her  cold  was  much  better  and 
gave  up  the  cough  in  despair.  It  was  her  first  sorrow  and  cost  her 
some  days  of  pale  brooding  and  silence,  and  some  nights  of  stifled 
tears,  when  during  an  Easter  holiday  a  letter  from  Miss  Frederick 
to  her  mother  announced  the  sudden  death  of  Mary  Lant."  ^ 

The  first  three  sentences,  which  deal  with  incidents  connected 
with  Marcella's  devotion  to  Mary  Lant  during  her  lifetime,  belong 
in  one  paragraph ;  the  last  sentence,  which  speaks  of  Marcella's 
sorrow  at  Mary's  death,  belongs  in  another.  The  reader's  diffi- 
culty in  getting  at  the  meaning  is  increased  by  the  fact  that  "  it " 
at  the  begiiniing  of  the  last  sentence  at  first  sight  seems  to  refer 
to  what  precedes,  but  really  refers  to  what  follows. 

It  is  sometimes  impracticable  to  give  to  a  paragraph 
clearness,  force,  and  ease  in  an  equally  high  degree ; 
for,  as  the  relative  importance  of  these  qualities  varies 
with  subject-matter  and  purpose,  it  may  be  difficult  in  a 
given  case  to  secure  in  full  measure  the  quality  most 
needed  without  sacrificing  something  from  one  or  both  of 
the  others.  Unity,  on  the  other  hand,  is  essential  to  the 
excellence  of  every  paragraph,  whatever  the  subject-matter 
or  purpose ;  without  it  a  collection  of  sentences  may  be 
a  paragraph  in  form,  but  it  cannot  be  one  in  substance. 

'  Mrs.  Humphry  Ward :  Marcella,  book  i.  chap.  i. 


ARRANGEMENT.  239 


SECTION   VII. 


WHOLE   COMPOSITIONS. 


The  general  principles  on  which  whole  compositions 
Bhould  be  framed  are  the  same  for  a  paper  of  two  or 
three  pages  as  for  a  book  of  several  volumes. 

To  secure  clearness  and  force  in  a  composition  as  a 
whole,  it  is  necessary  not  only  to  make  each  paragraph 
clear  and  forcible,  but  also  to  arrange  all  the  clearness  and 
paragraphs  in  a  clear  and  effective  order,  —  the  ^°^'^^' 
order  that  accords  with  the  sequence  of  thought  and  that 
holds  the  reader's  interest  from  beginning  to  end.  If  this 
order  is  followed,  each  paragraph  will  be  in  the  place 
where  it  belongs,  the  only  place  in  which  it  can  stand 
without  injury  to  the  total  impression. 

To  secure  ease  in  a  composition  as  a  whole,  it  is  neces- 
sary not  only  to  give  ease  to  each  paragraph,  but  also 
to  make  the  transition  from  paragraph  to  par- 
agraph withont  jar.  Too  much  attention  can 
hardly  be  paid  to  the  manner  of  getting  from  one  para- 
graph to  another.  A  master  of  the  art  of  transition  begins 
and  ends  each  paragraph  so  as  to  make  it  grow  out  of 
the  last  and  into  the  next ;  he  moves  so  easily  and  natu- 
rally that  the  reader  follows  without  being  aware  of  the 
steps  he  is  taking. 

To  secure  unity  in   a  composition   as   a  whole,  it  is 
necessary  not  only  to  make  each  paragraph  a  unit,  but 
also  to  make  all  the  paragraphs  together  con- 
stitute a  whole,  as  all  the  sentences  in  each 
paragraph  constitute  a  smaller  whole. 

"  Every  man,  as  he  walks  through  the  streets,"  says  De  Quincey, 
"  may  contrive  to  jot  down  an  independent  thought,  a  shorthand 


240  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

memorandum  of  a  great  truth.  .  .  .  Standing  on  one  ieg  you  may 
accomplish  this.  The  labour  of  composition  begins  when  you  have 
to  put  your  separate  threads  of  thought  inio  a  loom  ;  to  weave 
them  into  a  continuous  whole;  to  connect,  to  introduce  tliem ;  to 
blow  them  out  or  expand  them  ;  to  carry  them  to  a  close."  ^ 

A  good  writer  sees  his  subject  as  a  whole  and  treats  it 
as  a  whole.  However  abundant  his  material  (and  the 
more  of  it  he  has  the  better),  he  presents  it  as  a  unit. 
Sometimes  he  effects  this  by  giving  prominence  to  one 
idea,  and  grouping  other  ideas  about  that  in  subordinate 
positions,  —  digressions,  if  made  at  all,  being  distinctly- 
marked  as  digressions.  Always  he  observes  the  laws 
of  proportion,  and  thus  gives  to  each  part  the  space  it 
sliould  occux^y  relatively  to  every  other  part  and  to  the 
whole. 

"True  proportion  in  a  building,"  writes  Mr.  Palgrave,  "answers 
to  the  general  scheme  or  plot  of  a  poem  (as  exemplified  especially 
in  narrative  or  dramatic  works),  and,  further,  to  the  sense  of  unity 
which  all  good  art  conveys ;  whilst  the  ornamental  details  in  each 
should  always  be  felt  by  eye  and  mind  to  bud  and  flower  out,  as  if 
by  necessity,  from  the  main  object  of  the  design."  ^ 

Unity  means  one  thing  in  one  kind  of  composition, 
another  in  another  ;  but  every  piece  of  writing  which  pur- 
ports to  be  complete  in  itself  should,  whatever  its  length, 
its  subject-matter,  or  its  purpose,  be  a  whole.  Essays 
like  those  of  Montaigne,  in  which  no  pretence  of  composi- 
tion is  made,  the  writer  rambling  on  as  he  would  do  in 
familiar  conversation  or  in  family  letters,  are  the  only 
writings  which  do   not  require  unity,  or  rather  which 

1  De  Quincey :  E.ssay  ou  Style.  Examples  liolli  of  the  evil  effects  of 
shirking  the  "labour  of  composition,"  and  also  of  the  e.xcellent  effects 
of  performing  that  labor,  are  to  be  found  in  De  Quiiicey's  own  writings. 

2  F.  T.  Palgrave:  Poetry  compared  with  the  other  Fine  Arts.  The 
National  Review,  July,  18S6,  p.  635. 


ARRANGEMENT.  241 

require  no  unity  except  tlint  created  by  the  personality  of 
the  writer.  It  is  the  personality  of  the  writer  that  binds 
together  Emerson's  least  consecutive  pages.  This  kind  of 
unity  we  should  not  expect  to  find  in  the  great  majority 
of  compositions.  What  we  have  a  right  to  look  for  in 
them  is  unity  in  the  conception  of  the  subject  and  in  its 
treatment :  unity  of  thought  and  unity  of  expression. 

"  Composition,"  says  Ruskin,  "  means,  literally  and  simply,  put- 
ting several  things  together,  so  as  to  make  one  thing  out  of  them ; 
the  nature  and  goodness  of  which  they  all  have  a  share  in  pro- 
ducing. Thus  a  musician  composes  an  air,  by  putting  notes 
together  in  certain  relations  ;  a  poet  composes  a  poem,  by  putting 
thoughts  and  words  in  pleasant  order ;  and  a  painter  a  picture,  by 
putting  thoughts,  forms,  and  colours  in  pleasant  order. 

"  In  all  these  cases,  observe,  an  intended  unity  must  be  the  result 
of  composition.  A  paviour  cannot  be  said  to  compose  the  heap  of 
stones  which  he  empties  from  his  cart,  nor  the  sower  the  handful 
of  seed  which  he  scatters  from  his  hand.  It  is  the  essence  of 
composition  that  everything  should  be  in  a  determined  place, 
perform  an  intended  part,  and  act,  in  that  part,  advantageously 
for  everything  that  is  connected  with  it."  ^ 

What  unity  is  not,  every  teacher  of  composition  knows 
by  sad  experience.  Every  teacher  has  had  papers  pass 
through  his  hands  not  unlike  the  following  composition, 
which  purports  to  be  written  by  young  Mr.  Brown  and 
is  printed  by  Cardinal  Newman  as  a  typical  example  of 
writing  only  too  common  in  schools  and  colleges:  — 

"  '  Fortes  Fortuna  Adjuvat.' 

"'Of  all  the  uncertain  and  capricious  powers  which  rule  our 
earthly  destiny,  fortune  is  the  chief.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the 
poor  being  raised  up,  and  the  rich  being  laid  low?  Alexander  the 
Great  said  he  envied  Diogenes  in  his  tub,  because  Diogenes  could 
have  nothing  less.    We  need  not  go  far  for  an  instance  of  fortune. 

^  Ruskin:  The  Elements  ot  Drawing,  letter  iii. 


242  RHETORICAL  EXCELLENCE. 

Who  was  so  great  as  Nicholas,  the  Czar  of  all  the  Russias,  a  yeai 
ago,  and  now  he  is  "  fallen,  fallen  from  his  high  estate,  without  a 
friend  to  grace  his  obsequies."  ^  The  Tui"ks  are  the  finest  specimsn 
of  the  human  race,  yet  they,  too,  have  experienced  the  vicissitudes 
of  fortune.  Horace  says  that  we  should  wrap  ourselves  in  our  vir- 
tue, when  fortune  changes.  Napoleon,  too,  shows  us  how  little 
we  can  rely  on  fortune;  but  his  faults,  great  as  they  wei-e,  are 
being  redeemed  by  his  nephew,  Louis  Napoleon,  who  has  shown 
himself  very  different  from  what  we  expected,  though  he  has 
never  explained  how  he  came  to  swear  to  the  Constitution,  and 
then  mounted  the  imperial  throne. 

" '  From  all  this  it  appears,  that  we  should  rely  on  fortune  only 
while  it  remains,  —  recollecting  the  words  of  the  thesis,  "  Fortes 
fortuna  adjuvat;"  and  that,  above  all,  we  should  ever  cultivate 
those  virtues  which  will  never  fail  us,  and  which  are  a  sure  basis 
of  respectability,  and  will  profit  us  here  and  hereafter.' 

"Mr.  Black,  to  whom  the  boy's  admiring  father  submits  the 
composition  for  criticism,  comments  upon  it  as  follows  :  — 

" '  There  's  not  one  word  of  it  upon  the  thesis ;  but  all  boys 
write  in  this  way.  .  .  . 

" '  Now  look  here,'  he  says,  '  the  subject  is  "  Fortes  fortuna 
adjuvat ; "  now  this  is  a  proposition ;  it  states  a  certain  general 
principle,  and  this  is  just  what  an  ordinary  boy  would  be  sure 
to  miss,  and  Robert  does  miss  it.  He  goes  off  at  once  on  the 
word  "  fortuna."  "  Fortuna  "  was  not  his  subject ;  the  thesis 
was  intended  to  guide  him,  for  his  own  good ;  he  refuses  to  be 
put  into  leading-strings ;  he  breaks  loose,  and  runs  off  in  his 
own  fashion  on  the  broad  field  and  in  wild  chase  of  "fortune," 
instead  of  closing-  with  the  subject,  which,  as  being  definite,  would 
have  supported  him. 

"  '  It  would  have  been  very  cruel  to  have  told  a  boy  to  write  on 
"fortune;"  it  would  have  been  like  asking  him  his  opinion  of 
"  things  in  general."  Fortune  is  "  good,"  "  bad,"  "  capricious," 
"  unexpected,"  ten  thousand  things  all  at  once  (you  see  them  all 
in  the  Gradus),  and  one  of  them  as  much  as  the  other.  Ten  thou- 
sand things  may  be  said  of  it :  give  me  one  of  them,  and  I  will 
write  upon  it ;  I  cannot  write  on  more  than  one  ;  Robert  prefers 
to  write  upon  all.  -   .   . 

1  "  Here  again  Mr.  Browu  prophesies.     He  wrote  in  June,  1854." 


ARRANGEMENT.  243 

"  *  They  [boys]  do  not  rouse  ivp  their  attention  and  reflect :  they 
do  not  like  the  trouble  of  it :  they  cannot  look  at  any  thing  steadily ; 
and,  when  they  attempt  to  write,  oif  they  go  in  a  rigmarole  of  words, 
which  does  them  no  good,  and  never  would,  though  they  scribbled 
themes  till  they  wrote  their  fingers  off.  .  .  . 

" '  Now,  I  know  how  this  Theme  was  written,'  he  says,  '  first 
one  sentence,  and  then  your  boy  sat  thinking,  and  devouring  the 
end  of  his  pen ;  presently  down  went  the  second,  and  so  on.  The 
rule  is,  first  think,  and  then  write :  don't  write  when  you  have 
nothing  to  say ;  or,  if  you  do,  you  will  make  a  mess  of  it.  A 
thoughtful  youth  may  deliver  himself  clumsily,  he  may  set  down 
little ;  but  depend  upon  it,  his  half  sentences  will  be  worth  more 
than  the  folio  sheet  of  another  boy,  and  an  experienced  examiner 
will  see  it.  .  .  . 

" '  Now,  I  will  prophesy  one  thing  of  Robert,  unless  this  fault 
is  knocked  out  of  him,'  continues  merciless  Mr.  Black.  '  When 
he  grows  up,  and  has  to  make  a  speech,  or  write  a  letter  for  the 
papgrs,  he  will  look  out  for  flowers,  full-blown  flowers,  figures, 
smart  expressions,  trite  quotations,  hackneyed  beginnings  and 
endings,  pompous  circumlocutions,  and  so  on  :  but  the  meaning, 
the  sense,  the  solid  sense,  the  foundation,  you  may  hunt  the  slipper 
long  enough  before  you  catch  it.'  "  ^ 

Cardinal  Newman's  method  of  securing  unity  holds  for 
us  all.  We  should  "  first  think,  and  then  write : "  think 
till  we  have  thoroughly  assimilated  our  materials  and 
have  determined  what  we  would  say,  and  then  write  as 
rapidly  as  possible,  with  minds  not  occupied  with  choice 
of  word  or  turn  of  phrase  but  intent  on  the  subject. 
After  the  first  draught  has  been  made,  we  may  at  leisure 
attend  to  matters  of  detail,  criticise  from  various  points 
of  view,  curtail  here,  amplify  there,  until  each  part  has 
its  due  proportion  of  space  and  effectiveness ;  but  un- 
less we  have  a  conception  of  the  whole  before  beginning 
to  write,  and  unless  we  write  with  an  eye  to  that  whole, 
there  is  little  likelihood  that  our  work  will  be  a  unit. 

1  Cardinal  Newman  :  The  Idea  of  a  University  ;  University  Subjects, 
Elem«ota.»y  Studies. 


244  RHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

The  principle  that  underlies  all  rhetorical  rules  is 
(as  has  been  hinted  more  than  once  in  the  foregoing 
Unity  with  pa-ges)  the  principle  of  all  art,  —  the  principle 
variety.  ^j   unity  in   design  conjoined  with  manifold 

variety  in  expression. 

"A  great  author,"  says  Cardinal  Newman,  "is  not  one  who 
merely  has  a  copia  verborwn,  whether  in  prose  or  verse,  and  can,  as 
it  were,  turn  on  at  his  will  any  number  of  splendid  phrases  and 
swelling  sentences ;  but  he  is  one  who  has  something  to  say  and 
knows  how  to  say  it.  .  .  . 

"He  writes  passionately,  because  he  feels  keenly;  forcibly,  be- 
cause he  conceives  vividly ;  he  sees  too  clearly  to  be  vague ;  he  is 
too  serious  to  be  otiose ;  he  can  analyze  his  subject,  and  therefore 
he  is  rich ;  he  embraces  it  as  a  whole  and  in  its  parts,  and  there- 
fore he  is  consistent ;  he  has  a  firm  hold  of  it,  and  therefore  he  is 
luminous. 1  When  his  imagination  wells  up,  it  overflows  in  orna- 
ment ;  when  his  heart  is  touched,  it  thrills  along  his  verse.  He 
always  has  the  right  word  for  the  right  idea,  and  never  a  word  too 
much.  If  he  is  brief,  it  is  because  few  words  suffice ;  when  he  ia 
lavish  of  them,  still  each  word  has  its  mark,  and  aids,  not  embar- 
rasses, the  vigorous  march  of  his  elocution."  2 

Not  that  a  writer  should  expect  to  be  the  "  perfectly- 
endow^ed  man "  of  whom  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  ^  dreams. 
"To  have  a  specific  style,"  says  Mr.  Spencer,  "  is  to  be  poor 
in  speech ;"  but  to  have  in  no  sense  and  in  no  degree  "a 
specific  style"  is  to  be  "  faultily  faultless,"  to  be  devoid  of 
that  individuality  which  is  at  once  the  spring  and  the 
charm  of  genius.  Emerson  teaches  a  sounder  doctrine  in 
giving  the  "  essential  caution  to  young  writers,  that  they 
shall  not  in  their  discourse  leave  out  the  one  thing  which 

1  Another  instance  of  several  short  sentences  united  in  one.  See  page 
212. 

2  Cardinal  Newman  :  Tlie  Idea  of  a  University ;  University  Subjects, 
Literature. 

•  The  Philosophy  of  Style. 


ARRANGEMENT.  245 

the  discourse  was  written  to  say,"  but  sliall  each  "  obey  " 
his  "  native  bias."  "  To  each  his  own  method,  style,  wit, 
eloquence."  ^ 

..."  in  each  rank  of  fruits,  as  in  each  rank  of  masters,  one  is 
endowed  with  one  virtue,  and  another  with  another ;  their  glory 
is  their  dissimilarity,  and  they  who  propose  to  themselves  in  the 
training  of  an  artist  that  he  should  unite  the  colouring  of  Tintoret, 
the  finish  of  Albert  Diirer,  and  the  tenderness  of  Correggio,  are  no 
wiser  than  a  ncrticulturist  would  be,  who  made  it  the  object  of  his 
labour  to  produce  a  fruit  which  should  unite  in  itself  the  luscious- 
ness  of  the  grape,  the  crispness  of  the  nut,  and  the  fragrance  of 
the  pine."  2 

If  Thackeray  had  published  his  "  Eoundabout  Papers  " 
a  little  later,  he  might  be  supposed  to  have  had  Mr. 
Spencer's  "  perfectly-endowed  man  "  in  mind  while  writ- 
ing the  following  paragraph  :  — 

"  And  this,  I  must  tell  you,  was  to  have  been  a  rare  Roundabout 
performance  —  one  of  the  very  best  that  has  ever  appeared  in  this 
series.  It  was  to  have  contained  all  the  deep  pathos  of  Addison  ; 
the  logical  precision  of  Rabelais ;  the  childlike  plaj-f  ulness  of 
Swift ;  the  manly  stoicism  of  Sterne ;  the  metaphysical  depth  of 
Goldsmith  ;  the  blushing  modesty  of  Fielding  ;  the  epigrammatic 
terseness  of  Walter  Scott ;  the  uproarious  humour  of  Sam  Richard- 
son ;  and  the  gay  simplicity  of  Sam  Johnson  ;  —  it  was  to  have 
combined  all  these  qualities,  with  some  excellences  of  modern 
writers  whom  I  could  name  :  but  circumstances  have  occurred 
which  have  rendered  this  Roundabout  Essay  also  impossible."  ^ 

If  Shakspere  approaches  Mr.  Spencer's  ideal,  it  is  be- 
cause he  speaks  through  many  voices ;  but  even  Shak- 
spere, when  he  ceases  to  be  lago  or  Juliet,  shows  traces 
of  "a  specific  style." 

1  Emerson :  Letters  and  Social  Aims ;  Greatness. 

2  Ruskin  :  IVIodern  Painters,  vol.  iii.  part  iv.  chap.  iii. 

3  Thackeray:  Roundabout  Papers;  On  Two  Roundabout  Papers  which 
I  intended  to  Write. 


246  EHETORICAL   EXCELLENCE. 

The  unity  which  every  young  writer  should  seek  is  not 
the  unity  of  perfection,  but  the  unity  which  comes  from 
the  conception  of  a  discourse  as  a  whole,  and  from  the  har- 
monious arrangement  of  the  parts  in  conformity  with  that 
conception.  Every  composition  that  he  writes  should  be 
"  a  body,  not  a  mere  collection  of  members,"  ^  —  a  living 
body.  Its  life  must  come  partly  from  the  writer's  natural 
qualities,  and  partly  from  his  acquired  resources  whether 
of  matter  or  of  language.  Familiarity  with  good  authors 
will  stimulate  his  powers  of  expression,  and  constant 
practice  under  judicious  criticism  will  train  them. 

Whatever  a  writer's  materials,  whatever  his  gifts,  he 
must,  if  he  hopes  to  be  read,  awaken  interest  at  the  begin- 
A  writer         niug  and  hold  it  to  the  end.     Unless  he  'suc- 

should  interest 

his  readers.  cccds  in  doiug  this,  his  work,  whatever  its 
merits  in  other  respects,  fails,  —  as  a  picture  fails  which 
nobody  cares  to  look  at,  or  a  sonata  which  nobody  cares 
to  hear.  A  student  of  composition  can  receive  no  higher 
praise  from  his  teacher  than  this :  "  I  enjoyed  reading 
your  essay." 

1  Non  solum  composita  oratio,  sed  etiam  continua.  —  Quintilian :  Inst 
Orator,  vii.  x.  xvii. 


Part  IL 
KINDS   OF   COMPOSITIOK 


FOUR   KINDS   DISCRIMINATED. 

Thus  far  we  have  discussed  the  general  principles  that 
apply  in  varying  degrees  to  all  kinds  of  composition :  we 
have  now  to  consider  the  special  principles  that  apply  to 
each  kind. 

The  four  kinds  of  composition  that  seem  to  require 
separate  treatment  are :  description,  which  deals  with 
persons  or  things ;  narration,  which  deals  with  acts  or 
events ;  exposition,  which  deals  with  whatever  admits 
of  analysis  or  requires  explanation ;  argument,  which 
deals  with  any  material  that  may  be  used  to  convince 
the  understanding  or  to  affect  the  will.  The  purpose 
of  description  is  to  bring  before  the  mind  of  the  reader 
persons  or  things  as  they  appear  to  the  writer.  The 
purpose  of  narration  is  to  tell  a  story.  The  purpose 
of  exposition  is  to  make  ihe  matter  in  hand  more 
definite.  The  purpose  of  argument  is  to  influence  opin- 
ion or  action,  or  both. 

In  theory  these  kinds  of  composition  are  distinct,  but 
in  practice  two  or  more  of  them  are  u^^ually  combined. 
Description  readily  runs   into  narration,  and  narration 


248  KINDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

into  description :  a  paragraph  may  be  descriptive  in  form 
and  narrative  in  purpose,  or  narrative  in  form  and  de- 
scriptive in  purpose.  Exposition  has  much  in  common 
with  one  kind  of  description ;  and  it  may  be  of  service 
to  any  kind  of  description,  to  narration,  or  to  argument 


CHAPTER  L 

DESCRIPTION. 

The  purpose  of  description  is,  as  has  already  been  said, 
to  bring  before  the  mind  of  the  reader  persons  or  things 
as  they  appear  to  the  writer.  As  a  means  to  Language 
this  end,  language  has  certain  limits,  limits  3painting 
that  are  obvious  to  one  who  compares  a  verbal  ^""^  sculpture, 
description  of  an  object  either  with  the  object  itself  or 
with  a  model,  a  photograph,  or  a  drawing  of  it.  In  the 
model  or  the  drawing,  as  in  the  object  itself,  we  see  the 
parts  in  themselves,  and  we  see  them  in  their  relations 
with  one  another,  —  we  see  them  as  a  whole.  Now, 
the  only  way  in  which  words  can  give  a  complete  idea 
of  a  whole  is  by  a  description  of  the  parts.  To  make 
a  whole  these  parts  must  be  laboriously  put  together, 
and  even  then  the  part  first  spoken  of  may  be  forgotten 
before  the  last  part  is  reached.  The  process,  in  the 
words  of  Coleridge,  "  seems  to  be  like  takmg  the  pieces 
of  a  dissected  map  out  of  its  box.  We  first  look  at  one 
part  and  then  at  another,  then  join  and  dove-tail  them ; 
and  when  the  successive  acts  of  attention  have  been 
completed,  there  is  a  retrogressive  effort  of  mind  to  be- 
hold it  as  a  whole."  ^  In  consequence  of  this  serious 
drawback  to  the  use  of  words  for  purposes  of  descrip- 
tion, diagrams  are  added  to  the  text  of  a  scientific  treat- 
ise, ground-plans  and  elevations  to  the  specifications  of  an 

1  Coleridge :  Biographia  Literaria,  chap.  xxii. 


250  KIKDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

architect,  models  to  applications  for  patents,  illustrations 
to  verbal  descriptions  in  dictionaries  and  periodicals. 

Painting  and  sculpture,  on  the  other  hand,  address  the 
eye  only,  and  are  subject  to  the  limitations  to  which 
the  eye  is  subject.  They  can  convey  impressions  of  a 
single  moment  only,  since  the  eye  cannot  receive  impres- 
sions of  two  successive  moments  at  once;  but  they  can 
represent  a  wide  extent  of  space  or  a  scene  comprising 
numerous  details,  since  the  eye  can  in  a  moment  receive 
an  impression  of  a  whole  that  is  composed  of  many 
different  parts.  Being  limited  to  a  single  moment,  they 
naturally  choose  the  moment  that  tells  most  about  the 
past  and  the  future  of  the  object  represented.  Their 
Lady  Macbeth  appears  in  the  sleep-walking  scene,  in 
which  she  lives  over  again,  not  only  the  murder,  but 
the  motive  that  led  to  it  and  the  remorse  that  followed ; 
their  Medea  appears  in  the  struggle  between  her  mater- 
nal love  and  her  impulse  to  murder ;  their  Ajax,  sitting 
among  the  slaughtered  herds  whose  destruction  he  now 
regrets ;  their  Laocoon,  while  his  pain  is  still  endurable ; 
their  Dying  Gladiator,  at  the  moment  when  with  the 
pangs  of  death  mingle  the  memories  of  his  "  young 
barbarians  at  play." 

Whatever  painting  and  sculpture  can  thus  suggest  to 
the  imagination,  language  can  fully  recount.  It  can  teli 
the  whole  story  of  Lady  Macbeth,  Medea,  Ajax,  Laocoon, 
the  Dying  Gladiator.  No  gallery  of  pictures,  however 
large,  can  tell  a  story  as  words  can ;  for  each  picture  is 
distinct  from  every  other,  but  each  word  is  part  of  a  con- 
tinuously flowing  current.  Words  succeed  each  other  in 
time,  as  forms  and  colors  lie  side  by  side  in  space ;  words 
are,  therefore,  especially  fitted  to  represent  movement, 
forms  and  colors  to  represent  rest.     A  writer  suggests  to 


DESCRIPTION.  251 

the  imagination  persons  or  scenes  that  a  painter  presents 
to  the  eye,  as  a  painter  suggests  a  story  that  a  writer 
tells.     Each  is  strongest  at  the  other's  weakest  point.^ 
No   one   can   describe   a   person    or  a   thing  that  he 
has  not  seen  either  in  fact  or  in  imagination,  and  no 
one  can  describe  well  what   he   sees  unless,  two  kinds  cf 
in    obedience   to   Wordsworth's   rule,   he   has     e^cnption. 
his  "eye  on  the  object"  to  be  described.      All  descrip- 
tion,  then,    implies   observation.      Tliere   are,   however, 
two  ways    of   observing:    we    may  observe    as  men    of 
science,  —  that  is,   give   attention  to  the   details  of   an 
object ;    or   we  may  observe  as  artists,  —  that   is,  give 
attention  to  an  object  as  a  whole.      In  the  first  case, 
our  purpose  is  to  study  the  object  ourselves  or  to  enable 
others  to  study  it ;  in  the  second  case,  our  purpose  is  to 
enjoy  the  object  ourselves  or  to  enable  others  to  enjoy 
it.     Answering  to  these  two   kinds   of   observation   are 
two  kinds  of  description,  —  one  in  the  service  of  science, 
the  other  in  the  service  of  art.     The  first  may  be  called 
SCIENTIFIC,  the  second  aetistic. 


SECTION  I. 

SCIENTIFIC    DESCRIPTION. 

The  purpose  of  scientific  description  is  to  convey 
information  about  the  object  described.     It  analyzes  an 
object  in  order  to  distinguish  its  parts  and  ^-^^^^ 
thus    enable    us    to    identify    the    object    by  ^?*n«flf 
3omparing  it  part  by  part  with  the  descrip-  description. 
tion.     This  kind  of  description,  —  which  is  employed  not 

1  For  a  complete  exposition  of  these  principles,  see  Lessing's '"  Laocoon/' 
■ects.  XV.  xvi.  et  seq. 


252  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

only  in  works  of  science  but  also  in  passports,  inven- 
tories, title-deeds,  advertisements  of  lost  dogs  or  of 
escaped  criminals,  —  is  useful  as  far  as  it  goes ;  but  it 
does  not  go  very  far.  It  has,  however,  resources  of  its 
own.  The  description  of  a  thief  may  give  many  details 
that  would  not  appear  in  a  photograph.  The  description 
of  a  flower  or  of  an  animal  may  be  supplemented  by  an 
account  of  its  habits,  of  differences  in  the  varieties  of 
the  species  to  which  it  belongs,  and  of  the  relation  of 
that  species  to  others. 

The  following  passage  begins  with  a  scientific  descrip- 
tion of  the  barn-swallow  (^Hirundo  horreorwri),  and  then 
gives  an  account  of  its  habits  and  notes  some  peculiarities 
of  the  nest  and  the  eggs :  — 

"  Tail  very  deeply  forked ;  outer  feathers  [of  tail]  several  inches 
longer  than  the  inner,  very  narrow  towards  the  end  ;  above  glossy- 
blue,  -with  concealed  white  in  the  middle  of  the  back ;  throat  chest- 
nut ;  rest  of  lower  part  reddish-white,  not  conspicuously  different ; 
a  steel-blue  collar  on  the  upper  part  of  the  breast,  interrupted  in 
the  middle  ;  tail  feathers  with  a  white  spot  near  the  middle,  on  the 
inner  web.     Female  with  the  outer  tail  feather  not  quite  so  long. 

"  Length,  six  and  ninety  one-hundi-edtlis  inches ;  wing,  five 
inches ;  tail,  four  and  fifty  one-hundredths  inches. 

"  This  beautiful  and  well-known  bird  arrives  in  New  England 
from  about  the  10th  of  April  to  the  25th  of  that  month,  according 
to  latitude ;  it  is  quickly  dispersed  in  great  numbers  through  these 
States,  and  soon  commences  mating.  Its  habits  are  so  well  known 
that  any  description  here  is  hardly  needed.  About  the  10th  of 
May,  after  the  birds  have  paired,  they  commence  building ;  or 
sometimes  the  same  couple  begin  repairing  the  nest  of  the  preced- 
ing year  or  years,  as  the  same  nest  is  occupied  several  seasons.  It 
is  built  in  the  eaves  of  houses  or  barns,  or  on  rafters  of  barns  and 
other  buildings.  It  is  constructed  outwardly  of  a  strong  shell  of 
pellets  of  mud,  which  are  plastered  together,  and,  as  Nuttall  says, 
'  tempered  with  fine  hay,  and  rendered  more  adhesive  by  the  gluti- 
nous saliva  of  the  bird.'  This  nest  is  built  out  and  up  until  the 
top  is  about  horizontal,  and  then  lined  with  a  layer  of  fine  grass  or 


DESCRIPTION.  253 

hay,  which  is  covered  with  loose  feathers.  This  bird  is  fond  of 
society,  often  as  many  as  twenty  nests  being  in  the  same  eaves. 
The  eggs  are  usually  four  in  number,  sometimes  five :  they  are  of 
a  nearly  pure-white  color,  with  a  slight  roseate  tint;  and  are 
spotted  more  or  less  thickly  with  fine  dots  of  two  shades  of  brown, 
reddish,  and  purplish.  The  dimensions  of  four  eggs,  collected  in 
Upton,  Me.,  are  .76  by  M  inch,  .70  by  .52  inch,  .76  by  .52  inch, 
.69  by  .53  inch.  The  largest  specimen,  in  a  great  number,  is  .78 
by  .57  inch ;  the  smallest,  .67  by  .50  inch.  Two  broods,  and  some- 
times three,  are  reared  in  the  season.  The  period  of  incubation  is 
thirteen,  days. 

"  About  the  first  week  in  September,  the  old  and  young  birds  of 
different  families  gather  in  immense  flocks ;  and,  after  remaining 
about  the  marshes  near  the  seacoast  for  a  few  days,  they  leave 
for  their  winter  homes.  It  is  seldom  that  any  are  seen  after 
September  15th  in  New  England."  ^ 

In  the  description  with  which  this  passage  begins,  the 
method  adopted  is  that  which  experience  has  shown  to 
be  most  useful  for  purposes  of  study,  —  the  method  of 
selecting  characteristic  particulars  and  presenting  them 
with  clearness.  In  the  several  sciences  modes  of  pro- 
cedure differ  somewhat;  but  they  are  all  referable  to  the 
general  purpose  of  beginning  with  what  is  most  cliarac- 
teristic  of  the  species  described  and  going  on  in  the 
order  familiar  to  a  specialist.  When  a  description  of  this 
nature  is  intended  for  the  general  reader,  it  should  begin 
with  that  peculiarity  which  first  strikes  an  untrained  eye, 
and  should  enumerate  particulars  in  the  order  adapted  to 
an  untrained  mind. 

In  purpose  scientific  description  has  much  in  common 
with  exposition :  like  that,  it  aims  at  conveying  informa- 
tion.    In  subject-matter  it  resembles  artistic  description. 

*  Edward  A.  Samuels :  Ornithology  and  OiJlogy  of  New  England. 


254  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

SECTION  II. 

ARTISTIC     DESCRIPTION. 

Wliere  words  serve  no  higher  purpose  than  they  do  in 
scientific  description,  —  that  is,  where  they  serve  only  as 
Aim  and  means  of  identifying  objects  that  are  or  are  to 
Ztlsuc  °^  ^^  under  the  eye,  —  they  give  useful  inf orma- 
description.  ^-^^^^  mdecd,  but  pretend  to  no  higher  excel- 
lence. The  purpose  of  description  not  scientific  is  less 
to  convey  information  (though  it  may  do  that  inciden- 
tally) than  to  affect  the  imagination,  to  produce  illusion, 
to  give  pleasure.  The  writer  of  a  description  of  this  kind, 
like  the  writer  of  a  scientific  description,  should  have  his 
eye  on  the  object  that  he  is  describing.  He  should  not, 
however,  dwell  on  details  as  such :  he  should  not  invite 
attention  to  this  or  that  part,  unless  it  is  a  characteristic 
part,  a  part  that  represents  the  whole.  This  kind  of 
description,  as  distinguished  in  purpose  from  scientific 
description,  may  be  called  artistic  ;  as  distinguished  in 
method,  it  may  be  called  suggestive. 

Artistic  description  is  exemplified  in  the  following 
lines  from  Wordsworth's  "  Green  Linnet "  :  — 

"  Amid  yon  tuft  of  hazel  trees, 
That  twinkle  to  the  gusty  breeze, 
Behold  him  perched  iii-ecstasies, 

Yet  seeminji  still  to  hover ; 
There !  where  the  flutter  of  his  wings 


Upon  his  back  and  body  flings 
Shadows  and  sunny  glimmerings, 
That  cover  him  all  over. 

'My  dazzled  sight  he  oft  deceives, 
A  Brother  of  the  dancing  leaves : 
Then  flits,  and  from  tlie  cottage-eaves 
Pours  forth  his  song  in  gushes.* 


* 


DESCRIPTION.  255 

Wordsworth,  it  will  be  observed,  gives  no  particulars 
about  the  bird's  dimensions,  shape  of  beak,  or  variations 
of  color,  nothing  by  which  it  could  be  identified ;  he 
leaves  a  reader  who  has  never  seen  a  green  linnet  to 
imagine  one  by  recalling  some  bird  that  he  has  seen  and 
coloring  it  with  the  green  of  the  hazel  tree ;  he  adds 
nothing  to  the  reader's  knowledge,  but  he  associates  with 
knowledge  already  possessed  a  poet's  fancies  and  emo- 
tions. The  value  of  the  poem  to  each  reader  must  depend 
on  that  reader's  intelligence,  imagination,  and  sympathy. 

Every  master  of  suggestive  description  recognizes  the 
limits  of  his  art  and  makes  the  most  of  its  advantages. 
He  does  not  undertake  to  show  us  the  color  or  the  form 
of  a  flower,  as  the  painter  does ;  but  he  enables  us  to  feel 
its  beauty,  he  clothes  it  with  poetic  associations. 

"  It  is  not,"  says  Matthew  Arnold,  "  Linnaeus,  or  Cavendish,  or 
Cuvier  who  gives  us  the  true  sense  of  animals,  or  water,  or  plants, 
■who  seizes  their  secret  for  us,  who  makes  us  participate  in  their 
life  ;  it  is  Shakespeare,  with  his 

'  daffodils 
That  come  before  the  swallow  dares,  and  take 
The  winds  of  March  with  beauty  ; ' 
it  is  Wordsworth,  with  his 

'voice  .  .  .  heard 
In  spring-time  from  the  cuckoo-bird, 
Breaking  the  silence  of  the  seas 
Among  the  farthest  Hebrides ; ' 

it  is  Keats,  with  his 

'  moving  waters  at  their  priestlike  task 
Of  cold  ablution  round  Earth's  human  shores; ' 
it  is  Chateaubriand,  with  his  '  time  imlelerminee  des  forets ; '  it  is 
Senancour,  with  his  mountain  birch-tree:  '■Cetle  ecorce  blanche,  lisse 
et  crevassee ,  cette  tige  agreste ;  ces  branches  qui  s'inclinent  vers  la  terre , 
la  mobilite  des  feuilles,  et  totU  cet  abandon,  simplicite  de  la  nature,  atti- 
tude des  deserts.'  "  ^ 

1  Matthew  Arnold  :  Essays  in  Criticism ;  Maurice  de  Gu^rin. 


256  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

"  In  painting,"  says  Burke,  "  we  may  represent  any  fine  figure 
we  please;  but  we  never  can  give  it  tliose  enlivening  touches 
which  it  may  receive  from  words.  To  represent  an  angel  in  a 
picture,  you  can  only  draw  a  beautiful  young  man  winged:  but 
what  painting  can  furnish  out  any  thing  so  grand  as  the  addition 
of  one  word,  '  the  angel  of  the  Lord  f  .  .  .  Now,  as  there  is  a  mov- 
ing tone  of  voice,  an  impassioned  countenance,  an  agitated  gesture, 
which  affect  independently  of  the  things  about  which  they  are 
exerted,  so  there  are  words,  and  certain  dispositions  of  words, 
which  being  peculiarly  devoted  to  passionate  subjects,  and  always 
used  by  those  who  are  under  the  influence  of  any  passion,  touch 
and  move  us  more  than  those  which  far  more  clearly  and  dis- 
tinctly express  the  subject-matter.  We  yield  to  sympathy  what 
we  refuse  to  description."  i 

In  saying  that  "  we  yield  to  sympathy  what  we  refuse 
to  description,"  Burke  suggests  a  characteristic  of  descrip- 
Emotionin  ^^^^  Writing  already  noted  in  connection  with 
description.  « rj^j^^  Grecu  Linuct,"  —  the  characteristic  that 
communicates  to  the  reader  the  writer's  emotion  in  the 
presence  of  the  object  described.  This  communication  of 
emotion  may  be  made  without  distinct  reference  to  its 
source  in  the  objects  observed,  as  it  is  in  some  mod- 
ern English  poetry  and  in  many  of  the  productions  of 
the  "  symbolic "  or  "  impressionist "  school  of  writers  in 
France.  If,  however,  the  end  in  view  is  nothing  but  the 
communication  of  feeling,  language  is  not  the  appropriate 
means  of  expression.  Vague  emotion  can  be  better  ex- 
pressed through  songs  without  words  than  through  songs 
with  unmeaning  words  :  for  vague  emotion  the  appropriate 
vehicle  is  music. 

The  problem  for  the  writer  is  in  what  proportions  to 
combine  fancies  and  feelings  with  matters  of  fact.  A 
writer  who  makes  the  matter-of-fact  side  of  his  descrip- 

'  Burke  :  On  the  Sublime  and  Beautiful,  part  v.  sect.  vii.  This  passage 
furnishes  an  example  of  skilful  repetition  similar  to  those  on  pages  150, 151. 


DESCRIPTION.  257 

tion  prominent  may  be  useful  from  the  point  of  view  of 
science,  but  lie  is  not  effective  from  the  point  of  view  of 
art.  He  may  be  intelligible  to  those  who  are  in  search 
of  information,  but  he  will  not  create  interest :  his  work 
will  have  more  accuracy  than  life.  A  writer  who  loses 
the  sense  of  fact  in  a  gush  of  emotion  is  disappointing 
to  those  who  expect  to  find  ideas  behind  words.  He 
may  move  his  readers,  but  he  will  fail  to  provide  "  a  local 
habitation  "  for  the  feeling  he  evokes. 

Writers  of  artistic  description  sometimes  undertake  to 
transfer  their  emotions  to  inanimate  objects  by  means  of 
what  Mr.  Ruskin  calls  "  the  pathetic  fallacy."  The  pathetic 
To   explain    this    phrase,  Mr.   Paiskin    quotes  ^^'"'^• 
and  comments  upon  a  couplet  by  Dr.  Holmes:  — 

" '  The  spendthrift  crocus,  bursting  through  the  mould 
Naked  and  shivering,  with  his  cup  of  gold.'  ^ 

"This  is  very  beautiful,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin,  "and  yet  very  un- 
true. The  crocus  is  not  a  spendthrift,  but  a  hardy  plant ;  its 
j-ellow  is  not  gold,  but  saffron.  How  is  it  that  we  enjoy  so  mucli 
the  having  it  put  into  our  heads  that  it  is  anything  else  than  a 
plain  crocus  ? 

"It  is  an  important  question.  For,  throughout  our  past  rea- 
sonings about  art,  we  have  always  found  that  nothing  could  be 
good  or  useful,  or  ultimately  pleasurable,  which  was  untrue.  But 
here  is  something  pleasurable  in  written  poetry  which  is  neverthe- 
less untrue.  And  what  is  more,  if  we  think  over  our  favourite 
poetry,  we  shall  find  it  full  of  this  kind  of  fallacy,  and  that  we 
like  it  all  the  more  for  being  so. 

"  It  will  appear  also,  on  consideration  of  the  matter,  that  this 
fallacy  is  of  two  principal  kinds.  Either,  as  in  this  case  of  the 
crocus,  it  is  the  fallacy  of  wilful  fancy,  which  involves  no  real 
expectation  that  it  will  be  believed;  or  else  it  is  a  fallacy  caused 
by  an  excited  state  of  the  feelings,  making  us,  for  the  time,  more 
or  less  irrational.  .   .  .  Thus,  for  instance,  in  Alton  Locke,  — • 

*  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes :  Spring. 


258  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

"'They  rowed  her  in  across  the  rolling  foam— 
The  cruel,  crawling  foam.' 

"  The  foam  is  not  cruel,  neither  does  it  crawl.  The  state  of 
mind  which  attributes  to  it  these  characters  of  a  living  creature  is 
one  in  which  the  reason  is  unhinged  by  grief.  All  violent  feelings 
have  the  same  effect.  They  produce  in  us  a  falseness  in  all  our 
impressions  of  external  things,  which  I  would  generally  character' 
ize  as  the  '  Pathetic  fallacy.' 

"  Now  we  are  in  the  habit  of  considering  this  fallacy  as  emi^ 
nently  a  character  of  poetical  description,  and  the  temper  of  mind 
in  which  we  allow  it,  as  one  eminently  poetical,  because  passionate. 
But  I  believe,  if  we  look  well  into  the  matter,  that  we  shall  find 
the  greatest  poets  do  not  often  admit  this  kind  of  falseness,  — 
that  it  is  only  the  second  order  of  poets  who  much  delight  in  it. 

"  Thus,  when  Dante  describes  the  spirits  falling  from  the  bank 
of  Acheron  '  as  dead  leaves  flutter  from  a  bough,'  he  gives  the 
most  perfect  image  possible  of  their  utter  lightness,  feebleness, 
passiveness,  and  scattering  agony  of  despair,  without,  however, 
for  an  instant  losing  his  own  clear  perception  that  these  are  souls, 
and  those  are  leaves ;  he  makes  no  confusion  of  one  with  the  other. 
But  when  Coleridge  speaks  of 

" '  Tlie  one  red  leaf,  the  last  of  its  clan, 
That  dances  as  often  as  dance  it  can,' 

he  has  a  morbid,  that  is  to  say,  a  so  far  false,  idea  about  the  leaf  ; 
he  fancies  a  life  in  it,  and  will,  which  there  are  not ;  confuses  its 
powerlessness  with  choice,  its  fading  death  with  merriment,  and 
the  wind  that  shakes  it  with  music.  Here,  however,  there  is  some 
beauty,  even  in  the  morbid  passage ;  but  take  an  instance  in  Homer 
and  Pope.  Without  the  knowledge  of  Ulysses,  Elpenor,  his  young- 
est follower,  has  fallen  from  an  upper  chamber  in  the  Circean 
palace,  and  has  been  left  dead,  unmissed  by  his  leader  or  com- 
panions, in  the  haste  of  their  departure.  They  cross  the  sea  to 
the  Cimmerian  land ;  and  Ulysses  summons  the  shades  from 
Tartarus.  The  first  which  appears  is  that  of  the  lost  Elpenor. 
Ulysses,  amazed,  and  in  exactly  the  spirit  of  bitter  and  terrified 
lightness  which  is  seen  in  Hamlet,^  addresses  the  spirit  with  tha 
simple,  startled  words  :  — 

1  "  Well  said,  old  mole !  can'st  work  i'  the  ground  so  fast  ?  " 


DESCRIPTION.  259 

'"Elpenor!     How  earnest  thou  under  the  shadowy  darkness?     Hast 
thou  come  faster  on  foot  than  I  in  my  black  ship  1 ' 

Which  Pope  renders  thus  :  — 

" '  O,  say,  what  angry  power  Elpenor  led 

To  glide  in  shades,  and  wander  with  the  dead  ? 
How  could  thy  soul,  by  realms  and  seas  disjoined, 
Outfly  the  nimble  sail,  and  leave  the  lagging  wind  1' 

**  I  sincerely  hope  the  reader  finds  no  pleasure  here,  either  in  the 
nimbleness  of  the  sail,  or  the  laziness  of  the  wind !  And  yet  how 
is  it  that  these  conceits  are  so  painful  now,  when  they  have  been 
pleasant  to  us  in  the  other  instances  ? 

"For  a  very  simple  reason.  They  are  not  a  pathetic  fallacy  at 
all,  for  they  are  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  wrong  passion  —  a 
passion  which  never  could  possibly  have  spoken  them  —  agonized 
curiosity.  Ulysses  wants  to  know  the  facts  of  the  matter ;  and 
the  very  last  thing  his  mind  could  do  at  the  moment  would  be  to 
pause,  or  suggest  in  any  wise  what  was  not  a  fact.  The  delay  in 
the  first  three  lines,  and  conceit  in  the  last,  jar  upon  us  instantly 
like  the  most  frightful  discord  in  music.  No  poet  of  true  imagina<- 
tive  power  could  possibly  have  written  the  passage.^ 

"  Therefore  we  see  that  the  spirit  of  truth  must  guide  us  in 
some  sort,  even  in  our  enjoyment  of  fallacy.  Coleridge's  fallacy 
has  no  discord  in  it,  but  Pope's  has  set  our  teeth  on  edge. 

•  •••••■  • 

"Take  two  most  exquisite  instances  from  master  hands.  The 
Jessy  of  Shenstone,  and  the  Ellen  of  Wordsworth,  have  both  been 

1  "It  is  worth  while  comparing  the  way  a  similar  question  is  put  by 
tee  exquisite  sincerity  of  Keats  :  — 

"'He  wept,  and  his  bright  tears 
Went  trickling  down  the  golden  bow  he  held. 
Thus,  with  half-shut,  suffused  eyes,  he  stood  ; 
While  from  beneath  some  cumbrous  boughs  hard  by 
With  solemn  step  an  awful  goddess  came. 
And  there  was  purport  in  her  looks  for  him, 
Which  he  with  eager  guess  began  to  read : 
Perplexed  the  while,  melodiously  he  said, 
"  How  cam' St  thou  over  the  unfooted  sea  f"'" 


260  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

betrayed  and  deserted.     Jessy,  in  the  course  of  her  most  touching 
complaint,  says : 

" '  If  through  the  garden's  flowery  tribes  I  stray, 

Where  bloom  the  jasniiues  that  could  once  allure. 
"  Hope  not  to  find  delight  iu  us,"  they  say, 
"  For  we  are  spotless,  Jessy ;  we  are  pure." ' 

Compare  this  with  some  of  the  words  of  Ellen  : 

' "  Ah,  why,"  said  Ellen,  sighing  to  herself, 
"  Why  do  not  words,  and  kiss,  and  solemn  pledge, 
And  nature,  that  is  kind  in  woman's  breast. 
And  reason,  that  in  man  is  wise  and  good, 
And  fear  of  Him  who  is  a  righteous  Judge,  — 
Why  do  not  these  prevail  for  human  life. 
To  keep  two  hearts  together,  that  began 
Their  springtime  with  one  love,  and  that  have  need 
Of  mutual  pity  and  forgiveness  sweet 
To  grant,  or  be  received ;  while  that  poor  bird  — 
O,  come  and  hear  him  !    Thou  who  hast  to  me 
Been  faithless,  hear  him  ;  —  though  a  lowly  creature. 
One  of  God's  simple  children  that  yet  know  not 
The  Universal  Parent,  how  he  sings  ! 
As  if  he  wished  the  firmament  of  heaven 
Should  listen,  and  give  back  to  him  the  voice 
Of  his  triumphant  constancy  and  love. 
The  proclamation  that  he  makes,  how  far 
His  darkness  doth  transcend  our  fickle  light." ' 


'to' 


The  perfection  of  both  these  passages,  as  far  as  regards  truth  and 
tenderness  of  imagination  in  the  two  poets,  is  quite  insuperable 
But  of  the  two  characters  imagined,  Jessy  is  weaker  than  Ellen, 
exactly  in  so  far  as  something  appears  to  her  to  be  in  nature  which 
is  not.  The  flowers  do  not  really  reproach  her.  God  meant  them 
to  comfort  her,  not  to  taunt  her ;  they  would  do  so  if  she  saw 
them  rightly. 

■'Ellen,  on  the  other  hand,  is  quite  above  the  slightest  erring 
emotion.  There  is  not  the  barest  film  of  fallacy  in  all  her 
thoughts.  She  reasons  as  calmly  as  if  she  did  not  feel.  And, 
although  the  singing  of  the  bird  suggests  to  her  the  idea  of  its 
desiring  to  be  heard  in  heaven,  she  does  not  for  an  instant  admit 
any  veracity  in  the  thought.      '  As  if,'  she  says,  —  '  I  know  he 


DESCRIPTION.  261 

means  nothing  of  the  kind;  but  it  does  verily  seem  as  if.'  The 
reader  will  find,  by  examining  the  rest  of  the  poem,  that  Ellen's 
character  is  throughout  consistent  in  this  clear  though  passionate 
strength."  ^ 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  Mr.  Euskin  is  so  eager  to  express 
his  views  strongly  that  he  says  more  than  he  means. 
He  certainly  cannot  intend  to  maintain,  as  he  seems 
to  do  in  the  last  part  of  the  passage  quoted  above,  that 
similes  are  to  be  preferred  to  metaphors,  —  that,  for  in- 
stance, it  is  better  to  speak  of  "  foam  that  looks  as  if  it 
were  cruel  and  crawling "  than  to  say  "  cruel,  crawling 
foam."  Nor  can  he  intend  to  warn  writers  of  genius 
against  representing  the  inanimate  world  as  seen  through 
their  emotions  or  their  imagination.^  What  Mr.  Euskin 
desires  especially  to  condemn  is  the  deplorable  disposi- 
tion of  ordinary  writers  to  attribute,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  their  own  feelings  to  natural  objects  in 
cases  in  which  neither  passion  nor  imagination  justifies 
the  fallacy. 

This  disposition  appears  in  the  following  passages :  — 

"  Through  the  green  fields,  where  the  grass,  dew-drenched,  was 
shedding  myriad  pearly  tears  of  joy  at  the  departure  of  darkness 
and  the  coming  back  of  light ;  where  the  daisies  and  the  butter- 
cups were  half  unclosing  their  coy  lips,  under  the  kisses  of  their 
kingly  lover.  Through  them  all  she  went,  and  then  passed  down 
to  the  shore  of  the  great  sea  whose  breast  was  heaving  gently  for 
the  love  of  Hj'perion,  the  mighty  sun  god,  who  was  smiling  wel- 
comingly,8  coquettishly,  under  his  burning  eyes,  through  all  her 
countless  waves."  * 

"  Then  would  the  gentle  spirits  of  Nature  shower  on  her  their 
holy  ministry,  pitying  the  passion  of  the  self-tormented  human 

1  Ruskin  :  Modern  Painters,  vol.  iii.  part  iv.  chap,  xii 

2  See  Lowell  on  "  The  Imagination."    The  Century  Magazine,  March 
1894. 

'  See  page  22. 

*  Rhoda  Broughton :  Not  Wisely  but  Too  Well,  chap.  viii. 


262  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

soul ;  then  would  the  sweet  evening  wind  breathe  softly  its  cool 
kisses  on  her  throbbing  brows,  and  sing  over  her  its  soothing  lul- 
laby ;  then  would  the  over-arching  trees  wave  their  green  branches 
gently  above  her,  whispering  compassionately  to  each  other  of  her 
woe ;  then  would  the  serene  evening-star  come  out  in  heaven,  and 
look  mildly  down  through  the  shaggy  forest  depths  on  the  pros- 
trate creature,  who,  calmed  by  these  holy  influences,  would  sink 
at  length  into  slumber,  which  was,  for  a  while,  forgetf ulness."  ^ 

"During  the  sad  funeral  hours  the  October  skies  were  weeping 
copiously,  as  if  the  heart  of  nature  were  touched  by  the  all-pervad- 
ing grief."  ^ 

If  the  principles  that  apply  to  descriptive  writing 
have  been  correctly  set  forth,  two  things  are  obvious : 
Resources  of     (1)  that  a  Writer  should  not  try  to  make  lan- 

artistic  .  ii/n\i 

description,  guagc  do  morc  than  it  can  do  well ;  (z)  that 
he  should  make  the  most  of  the  advantages  which  lan- 
guage possesses  over  the  other  arts.  It  remains  to  speak 
of  the  ways  in  which  he  may  secure  these  advantages. 

Instead  of  wearying  the  reader  with  many  details,  a 
skilful  writer  describes  by  selecting  a  few  telling  char- 
Teuing  acteristics    that    stimulate    the    imagination : 

istics.  he  expresses  less  than  he  suggests.     For  ex- 

ample :  — 

..."  a  bashful,  shining,  red-faced  laird,  with  large  white  ears, 
and  a  smooth  powdered  head,  who  awkwardly  mumbled  out  his 
acquiescence."^ 

"  The  monarch  is  a  little,  keen,  fresh-coloured  old  man,  with 
very  protruding  eyes,  attired  in  plain,  old-fashioned,  snuff-coloured 
clothes  and  brown  stockings,  his  only  ornament  the  blue  ribbon  of 
his  Order  of  the  Garter."* 

"  Small,  shniing,  neat,  metho  lical,  and  buxom  was  Miss  Peecher ; 
cherry-cheeked  and  tuneful  of  voice.      A  little  pin-cushion,  a  little 

1  Frances  Anne  Kemble:  Far  Away  and  Long  Ago,  chap.  xv. 

2  American  newspaper:  editorial  article  on  the  funeral  of  Dr.  Holmes. 
^  Miss  Ferrier :   Destiny,  vol.  i.  chap,  xxxix. 

*  Thackeray :  The  Virginians,  chap.  Iviii. 


DESCRIPTION.  263 

housewife,  a  little  book,  a  little  work-box,  a  little  set  of  tables  and 
weights  and  measures,  and  a  little  woman  all  in  one.  She  could 
write  a  little  essay  on  any  subject,  exactly  a  slate  long,  beginning 
at  the  left-hand  top  of  one  side  and  ending  at  the  right-hand  bottom 
of  the  other,  and  the  essay  should  be  strictly  according  to  rule."  i 

"Mrs.  Gradgrind,  a  little,  thin,  white,  pink-eyed  bundle  of 
shawls,  of  surpassing  feebleness,  mental  and  bodily;  who  was 
always  taking  physic  without  any  effect,  and  who,  whenever  she 
showed  a  symptom  of  coming  to  life,  was  invariably  stunned  by 
some  weighty  piece  of  fact  tumbling  on  her."  ^ 

" '  A  slight  figure,'  said  Mr.  Peggotty,  looking  at  the  fire, '  kiender 
worn ;  soft,  sorrowful,  blue  eyes ;  a  delicate  face ;  a  pritty  head, 
leaning  a  little  down ;  a  quiet  voice  and  way  —  timid  a'most. 
That 's  Em'ly !  .  .  .  Cheerful  along  with  me ;  retired  when 
others  is  by;  fond  of  going  any  distance  fur  to  teach  a  child,  or 
fur  to  tend  a  sick  person,  or  fur  to  do  some  kindness  tow'rds  a 
young  girl's  wedding  (and  she  's  done  a  many,  but  has  never  seen 
one) ;  fondly  loving  of  her  uncle ;  patient ;  liked  by  young  and 
old  ;  sowt  out  by  all  that  has  any  trouble.     That 's  Em'ly ! ' "  3 

"  One  moment  had  been  burnt  into  his  life  as  its  chief  epoch 
—  a  moment  full  of  July  sunshine  and  large  pink  roses  shedding 
theu'  last  petals  on  a  grassy  court  enclosed  on  three  sides  by  a 
Gothic  cloister.  Imagine  him  in  such  a  scene  :  a  boy  of  thirteen, 
stretched  prone  on  the  grass  where  it  was  in  shadow,  his  curly  head 
propped  on  his  arms  over  a  book,  while  his  tutor,  also  reading,  sat 
on  a  camp-stool  under  shelter."  ^ 

"  The  animal  he  bestrode  was  a  broken-down  plough-horse,  that 
had  outlived  almost  every  thing  but  his  viciousness.  He  was 
gaunt  and  shagged,  with  a  ewe  neck  and  a  head  like  a  hammer ; 
his  rusty  mane  and  tail  were  tangled  and  knotted  with  buns ;  one 
eve  had  lost  its  pupil,  and  was  glaring  and  spectral ;  but  the  other 
had  the  gleam  of  a  genuine  devil  in  it."  ^ 

"  Sylvia  Crane's  house  was  the  one  in  which  her  grandmother 
h.ad  been  born,  and  was  the  oldest  house  in  the  village.     It  was 

1  Dickens:  Our  Mutiiul  Frieml,  book  n.  chap.  i. 

2  Ibid. :  Hard  Times,  chap.  iv. 

^  Ibid.:  David  Copperfield,  chap.  Ixiii. 

*  George  Eliot :  Daniel  Deronda,  book  ii.  chap.  xvi. 

*  Irving:  The  Sketch  Book  ;  The  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollovr 


264  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

known  as  the  'old  Crane  place.'  It  had  never  been  painted,  it 
was  shedding  its  flapping  gray  shingles  like  gray  scales,  the  roof 
sagged  in  a  mossy  hollow  before  the  chimney,  the  windows  and 
the  doors  were  awry,  and  the  whole  house  was  full  of  undulations 
and  wavering  lines,  which  gave  it  a  curiously  unreal  look  in  broad 
daylight.  In  the  moonlight  it  was  the  shadowy  edifice  built  of  a 
dream."  i 

"  Her  little  face  is  like  a  walnut  shell 

With  wrinkling  lines ;  her  soft,  white  hair  adorns 

Her  either  brow  in  quaint,  straight  curls,  like  horns ; 

And  all  about  her  clings  an  old,  sweet  smell. 

Prim  is  her  gown  and  quakerlike  her  shawl. 

Well  might  her  bonnets  have  lieeu  born  on  her. 

Can  you  conceive  a  Fairy  Godmother 

The  subject  of  a  real  religious  call  ? 

In  snow  or  shine,  from  bed  to  bed  she  runs, 

Her  mittened  hands,  tliat  ever  give  or  pray, 

Bearing  a  sheaf  of  tracts,  a  bag  of  buns, 

All  twinkling  smiles  and  texts  and  pious  tales : 

A  wee  old  maid  that  sweeps  the  Bridegroom's  way. 

Strong  in  a  cheerful  trust  that  never  fails."  ^ 

..."  there  at  the  window  stood, 
Framed  in  its  black  square  length,  with  lamp  in  hand 
Pompilia ;  the  same  great,  grave,  grieff ul  air 
As  stands  i'  the  dusk,  on  altar  that  I  know, 
Left  alone  with  one  moonbeam  in  her  cell, 
Our  Lady  of  all  the  Sorrows."  ^ 
"  One  stiff  blind  horse,  his  every  bone  a-stare. 
Stood  stupefied,  however  he  came  there  "  * 
"Lo  !  sweeten'd  with  the  summer  light, 
The  full-juiced  apple,  waxing  over-mellow, 
Drops  in  a  silent  autumn  night."  ^ 
...  "a  full-fed  river  winding  slow 
By  herds  upon  an  endless  plain, 
The  ragged  rims  of  thunder  brooding  low. 
With  shadow-streaks  of  rain,"^ 

^  Mary  E.  Wilkins :  Pembroke,  chap.  ii. 

2  William  Ernest  Henley :  A  Book  of  Verses ;  In  hospital.  Visitor. 

'  Browning :  The  Ring  and  The  Book  ;  Giuseppe  Caponsaccni. 

*  Ibid. :  "  Childc  Roland  to  the  Dark  Tower  Came." 

'  Tennyson  :  The  Lotos-Eaters.  ^  i\)ii,  -,  The  Palace  of  Art, 


DESCRIPTION.  265 

"  At  length  I  saw  a  lady  within  call, 

Stiller  than  chisell'd  marble,  standing  there ; 
A  daughter  of  the  gods,  divinely  tall, 
And  most  divinely  fair."  ^ 

"  A  queen,  with  swarthy  cheeks  and  bold  black  eyes. 
Brow-bound  with  burning  gold."  ^ 

A  good  instance  of  the  effective  use  of  characteristic 
features  is  furnished  by  the  well-known  lines  with  which 
Tennyson  begins  "(Enone."  To  appreciate  the  excel- 
lence of  these  lines  for  purposes  of  description,  we  have 
but  to  read  them  after  reading  the  poet's  early  attempt; 
(in  the  volume  published  in  1833)  to  represent  the  same 
scene :  — 

'•  There  is  a  dale  in  Ida,  lovelier 
Than  any  in  old  Ionia,  beautiful 
With  emerald  slopes  of  sunny  sward,  that  lean 
Above  the  loud  glenriver,  which  hath  worn 
A  path  thro'  steepdown  granite  walls  below, 
Mantled  with  flowering  tendriltwine.     In  front 
The  cedarshadowy  valleys  open  wide. 
Far-seen,  high  over  all  the  Godbuilt  wall 
And  man}'  a  snowycolumned  range  divine, 
Mounted  with  awful  sculptures  —  men  and  Gods, 
The  work  of  Gods  —  bright  on  the  dark  blue  sky 
The  windy  citadel  of  Ilion 
Shone,  like  the  crown  of  Troas."  ^ 

These  lines  ai-e  manifestly  inferior  to  those  in  the  later  vohime  :  — 

"  There  lies  a  vale  in  Ida,  lovelier 
Than  all  the  valleys  of  Ionian  hills. 
The  swimming  vapour  slopes  athwart  the  glen. 
Puts  forth  an  arm,  and  creeps  from  pine  td  pine, 
And  loiters,  slowly  drawn.    On  either  hand 
The  lawns  and  meadow-ledges  midway  down 
Hang  rich  in  flowers,  and  far  below  them  roars 
The  long  brook  falling  thro'  the  clov'n  ravine 
In  cataract  after  cataract  to  the  sea. 
Behind  the  valley  topmost  Gargarus 

*  Tennyson ;  A  Dream  of  Fair  Women. 
^        2  Ibid.:  CEnone  (edition  of  1833). 


2tJ6  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

Stands  up  and  takes  the  morning :  but  in  front 
The  gorges,  opening  wide  apart,  reveal 
Troas  and  lliou's  columu'd  citadel, 
The  crown  of  Troas."  ^ 

In  the  final  form  of  this  description,  the  addition  of  fog — of  the 
specific  kind  of  fog  that  "  loiters  "  in  the  valley  in  a  way  familiar 
to  lovers  of  mountain  scenery  —  is  effective.  The  substitution  of 
"lawns  and  meadow-ledges"  that  "hang"  for  "emerald  slopes  of 
sunny  sward  "  that  "  lean  "  is  of  doubtful  value ;  but  there  can  be 
no  doubt  about  the  improvement  made  by  the  expansion  of  "loud 

glenriver  "  etc.,  into 

"  roars 
The  long  brook  falling  thro'  the  clov'n  ravine 
In  cataract  after  cataract  to  the  sea," 

and  by  the  transformation  of  the  vague  lines  beginning, 

"  In  front 
The  cedarshadowy  valleys  open  wide," 

ijito  the  far  more  striking  passage,  — 

"  Eehiud  the  valley  topmost  Gargarus 
Stands  up  and  takes  the  morning :  but  in  front 
The  gorges,  opening  wide  apart,  reveal 
Troas  and  lliou's  column'd  citadel. 
The  crown  of  Troas." 

Tiiese  lines  set  before  us  the  mountains,  the  plain  of  Troy,  the 
city,  and  the  citadel  with  its  columns.  The  transfer  of  the  epithet 
"columned"  from  the  mountains  to  the  citadel,  and  the  substitu- 
tion, in  the  last  line,  of  a  metaphor  for  a  simile,  make  the  citadel 
the  central  feature  of  the  landscape.  "  An  ancient  who  stood  on 
the  deck  of  a  trireme  watching  for  the  first  glimpse  of  Troy  would 
have  seen  just  as  much  as  is  described  here  at  the  moment  when 
the  vessel  swung  round  the  promontory  of  Sigeum  into  the  harbor. 
If  asked  to  tell  how  th«  city  looked,  he  would  remember  nothing 
but  the  columns  of  the  citadel."  2 

Well-selected  characteristics  may  be  made  more  effec- 
tive by  the  addition  of  a  happy  phrase  which  the  reader 
is  sure  to  remember,     For  example:  — 

1  Tennyson  :  OSnone.  2  From  a  student's  theme. 


DESCRIPTION.  267 

"  But,  whereas  the  girl  was  so  dark-eyed  and  dark-haired,  that 
she  seemed  to  receive  a  deeper  and  more  lustrous  colour  from  the 
sun,  when  it  shone  upon  her,  the  boy  was  so  light-eyed  and  light- 
haired  that  the  self-same  rays  appeared  to  draw  out  of  him  what 
little  colour  he  ever  possessed.  His  cold  eyes  would  hardly  have 
been  eyes,  but  for  the  short  ends  of  lashes  which,  by  bringing  them 
into  immediate  contrast  with  something  paler  than  themselves, 
expressed  their  form.  His  short-crop]Ded  hair  might  have  been  a 
mere  continuation  of  the  sandy  freckles  on  his  forehead  and  face. 
His  skin  was  so  unwholesomely  deficient  in  the  natural  tinge,  that 
he  looked  as  though,  if  he  were  cut,  he  would  bleed  white."  ^ 

"  He  [De  Quincey]  was  a  pretty  little  creature,  full  of  wire- 
drawn ingenuities;  bankrupt  enthusiasms,  bankrupt  pride;  with 
the  finest  silver-toned  low  voice,  and  most  elaborate  gently-winding 
courtesies  and  ingenuities  in  conversation  :  '  What  would  n't  one 
give  to  have  liim  in  a  Box,  and  take  him  out  to  talk ! '    (That  was 
Her  criticism  of  him ;  and  it  was  right  good.)     A  bright,  ready  and 
melodious  talker ;  but  in  the  end  an  inconclusive  and  long-winded. 
One  of  the  smallest  man-figures  I  ever  saw;  shaped  like  a  pair  of 
tones;  and  hardlv  aliove  five  feet  in  all:  when  he  sat,  you  would 
have  taken  him,  by  candlelight,  for  the  beautifullest  little  Child; 
blue-eyed,  blonde-haired,  sparkling  face,  —  had  there  not  been  a 
something,  too,  which  said,  '  Eccovi,  this  Child  has  been  in  Hell ."  "  * 
"  The  champaign  with  its  eudloss  fleece 
Of  feathery  grasses  everywhere ! 
Silence  and  passion,  joy  and  peace, 

An  everlasting  wash  of  air  — 
Rome's  ghost  since  her  decease."  ' 

Sometimes  the  phrase  takes  the  form  of  a  comparison, 
as  when  Thackeray  likens  Beatrix  Esmond  to  a  leopard, 
and  Ethel  Newcome  to  "  Diana,  whose  looks  were  so  cold 
and  whose  arrows  were  so  keen,"  or  when  George  Eliot 
likens  G-wendolen  Harleth  to  a  serpent.  These  compari- 
sons are  what  we  remember  best  about  Beatrix,  Ethel,  and 
Gwendolen. 

1  Dickens:  Hard  Times,  chap.  ii. 

2  Carlyle:  Reminiscences,  edited  by  C  E.  Norton;  Edward  Irving 
8  Browning:  Two  in  the  Canipagua. 


268  KDvDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

Other  examples  of  comparisons  that  give  effectiveness 
to  descriptions  occur  in  the  following  passages :  — 

..."  it  was  pleasant  to  look  at  Romola's  beauty :  to  see  her,  lite 
old  Firenzuola's  type  of  womanly  majesty,  '  sitting  with  a  certain 
grandeur,  speaking  with  gravity,  smiling  with  modesty,  and  cast- 
ing around,  as  it  were,  an  odour  of  queenliness ; '  and  she  seemed  to 
unfold  like  a  strong  white  lily  under  this  genial  breath  of  admira- 
tion and  homage."  ^ 

"  It  was  not  long  before  Romola  entered,  all  white  and  gold, 
more  than  ever  like  a  tall  lily.  Her  white  silk  garment  was  bound 
by  a  golden  girdle,  which  fell  with  large  tassels ;  and  above  that 
was  the  rippling  gold  of  her  hair,  surmounted  by  the  white  mist 
of  her  long  veil,  which  was  fastened  on  her  brow  by  a  band  of 
pearls,  the  gift  of  Bernardo  del  Nero,  and  was  now  parted  off  her 
face  so  that  it  all  floated  backward."  ^ 

"  If  the  conventional  Cherub  could  ever  grow  up  and  be  clothed, 
he  might  be  photographed  as  a  portrait  of  Wilfer.  His  chubby, 
smooth,  innocent  appearance  was  a  reason  for  his  being  always 
treated  with  condescension  when  he  was  not  put  down."  ^ 

"  Guido  Franceschini,  —  old 
And  nothing  like  so  tall  as  I  myself. 
Hook-nosed  and  yellow  in  a  bush  of  beard, 
Much  like  a  thing  I  saw  on  a  boy's  wrist, 
He  called  an  owl  and  used  for  catching  birds."  * 

oneweu-  Sometimcs  a  single  well-chosen  word  fully 

chosen  word,    auswcrs  the  purposcs  of  description. 

"  For  a  single  thing,"  says  Lessing,  "  Homer  has  commonly  but 
4  single  epithet.  A  ship  is  to  him  at  one  time  the  black  ship,  at 
another  the  hollow  ship,  and  again  the  swift  ship.  At  most  it  is 
the  well-manned  black  ship.  Further  painting  of  the  ship  he  does 
not  attempt.  But  of  the  ship's  sailing,  its  departure  and  arrival, 
he  makes  so  detailed  a  picture,  that  the  artist  would  have  to  paint 
five  or  six,  to  put  the  whole  upon  his  canvas."  ^ 

1  George  Eliot :  Eomola,  chap.  xix.  ^  Ibid.,  chap.  xx. 

'  Dickens :  Our  ISIutual  Friend,  book  i.  chap.  iv. 

♦  Browning:  The  King  and  the  Book;  Pompilia. 

*  Gottliold  Epliraim  Lessing :  The  Laocoon,  sect.  xvi.  Translated  by 
Miss  Ellen  Frothingham. 


DESCRIPTION.  269 

"  The  object  in  all  art,"  says  Mr.  Ruskin,  "  is  not  to  inform  but 
to  suggest,  not  to  add  to  the  knowledge  but  to  kindle  the  imagina- 
tion. He  is  the  best  poet  who  can  by  the  fewest  words  touch  the 
greatest  number  of  secret  chords  of  thought  in  his  reader's  own 
mind,  and  set  them  to  work  in  their  own  way.  I  will  take  a  sim- 
ple instance  in  epithet.  Byron  begins  something  or  other  —  '  'T  is 
midnight :  on  the  mountains  brown  —  The  pale  round  moon  shines 
deeply  down.'  Now  the  first  eleven  words  are  not  poetry,  except 
by  their  measure  and  preparation  for  rhyme ;  they  are  simple  in- 
formation, which  might  just  as  well  have  been  given  in  prose  —  it 
is  prose,  in  fact :  It  is  twelve  o'clock  —  the  moon  is  pale  —  it  is 
round  —  it  is  shining  on  brown  mountains. 

"  Any  fool,  who  had  seen  it,  could  tell  us  all  that.  At  last  comes 
the  poetry  in  the  single  epithet  '  deeply. '  Had  he  said  '  softly ' 
or  '  brightly '  it  would  still  have  been  simple  information."  ^• 

Poetry  abounds  in  examples  of  single  descriptive 
words.  Such  are  "  grim-visaged  war,"  ^  "  flower-soft 
hands,"  ^  "  Atlantean  shoulders,"  *  "  Snowdon's  shaggy 
side,"  ^  "  loud-throated  war,"  ^  "  the  ribbed  sea-sand,"  " 
"the  arrowy  Rhone," ^  "deep-browed  Horner,"^  "world- 
worn  Dante,"  ^°  "  the  plunging  seas,"  ^^  "  the  ringing  plains 
of  windy  Troy,"  ^^  "deep-chested  Chapman  and  firm- 
footed  Ben."  12 

This  method  of  description,  when  carried  to  excess, 
leads  to  caricature ;  for  caricature  is  the  exaggeration  of 

^  Ruskin :  Letters  addressed  to  a  College  Frieud  during  the  years 
1840-184.5.     Naples,  Feb.  12,  1841. 

2  Shakspere :  Richard  III.  act  i.  scene  i. 

3  Ibid. :  Anthony  and  Cleopatra,  act  ii.  scene  2. 
*  Milton:  Paradise  Lost,  book  ii.  line  30G. 

^  Gray:  The  Bard. 

^  Wordsworth ;  Address  to  Kilchurn  Castle. 

^  Coleridge:  Tho  Rime  of  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

8  Byron:  Childe  Harold's  Pilgriinai^e,  canto  iii.  stanza  Ixxi. 

5  Keats :  On  first  looking  into  Chapman's  Homer. 
"  Tennyson :  The  Palace  of  Art. 
"  Ibid.:  Ulysses.  12  Lowell:  Heartsease  and  Rue;  Agassiz 


270  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

one  trait  at  the  expense  of  others.  Of  this  form  of  exag- 
geration Dickens  is  sometimes  guilty :  his  Mr.  Carker  is 
all  teeth,  his  Eosa  Dartle  all  scar. 

Sometimes  a  writer,  instead  of  attempting  to  represent 
an  object,  contents  himself  with  speaking  of  the  effect 
Effect  that       which  that  object  produces.     This  is  the  best 

suggests  c      ■    ■  •  ■  £  ,  1 

cause.  way  01  givmg  an  impression  of  great  personal 

beauty;  for  beauty,  being  the  result  of  an  harmonious 
union  of  parts,  is  peculiarly  difficult  to  represent  by  lan- 
guage, except  in  an  indirect  way. 

Madame  Recainier's  remark  about  herself  is  worth  pages  of 
description.  "  I  know,"  said  she,  "  that  I  am  no  longer  beautiful, 
for  the  chimney-sweeps  have  given  up  stopping  work  to  look 
at  me." 

The  famous  Georgian  a,  Duchess  of  Devonshire,  the  duchess  who 
bought  a  butcher's  vote  for  Fox  with  a  kiss,  declared  that  the  most 
gratifying  compliment  ever  paid  to  her  beauty  was  the  exclama- 
tion which  burst  spontaneously  from  an  impassioned  coalheaver : 
"  I  could  light  my  pipe  at  your  eyes."  ^ 

Walpole  thus  gives  an  impression  of  the  beauty  of  the  Gunning 
sisters  :  "  They  can't  walk  in  the  park,  or  go  to  Vauxhall,  but  such 
mobs  follow  them  that  they  are  generally  driven  away."  ^  When 
one  of  them  was  presented,  "even  the  noble  mob  in  the  drawmg- 
room  clambered  upon  chairs  and  tables  to  look  at  her.  There  are 
mobs  at  their  doors  to  see  them  get  into  their  chairs ;  and  people 
go  early  to  get  places  at  the  theatres  when  it  is  known  they  will  be 
there."  ^  "  The  Gunnings  are  gone  to  their  several  castles,  and  one 
hears  no  more  of  them,  except  that  such  crowds  flock  to  see  the 
Duchess  Hamilton  pass,  that  seven  hundred  people  sat  up  all  night 
in  and  about  an  inn  in  Yorkshire  to  see  her  get  into  her  post-chaise 
next  morning."  * 

We  get  an  idea  of  the  majestic  carriage  of  William  Pitt  the 
elder  when  we  read  in  "The  Virginians,"  "As  I  see  that  solemn 

^  Captain  William  Jesse :  The  Life  of  Beau  Brummel,  vol.  i.  chap,  xii 
'  Horace  Walpole:  Letter  to  Sir  Horace  Mann,  June  18,  1751. 
«  Ibid.,  March  23,  1752. 
*  Ibid.,  May  13,  1752. 


DESCRIPTION.  271 

figure  passing,  even  a  hundred  years  off,  I  protest  I  feel  a  present 
awe,  and  a  desire  to  take  my  hat  off."  ^ 

A  striking  instance  of  this  method  of  description  is  the  well- 
known  passage  in  which  Homer  speaks  of  the  effect  which  Helen's 
beauty  produced  upon  the  old  men  of  Troy  :  — 

"  O'er  lier  fair  face  a  snowy  veil  she  threw, 
And,  softly  sighing,  from  the  loom  withdrew: 
Her  handmaids  Clymene  and  -lEthra  wait 
Her  silent  footsteps  to  the  Scsean  gate. 

"  There  sat  the  seniors  of  the  Trojan  race, 
(Old  Priam's  chiefs,  and  most  in  Priam's  grace) 
The  king  the  first;  Thymoetes  at  his  side; 
Lampus  and  Clytius,  long  in  council  try'd; 
Panthus,  and  Hicetaon  once  tlie  strong; 
And  next,  the  wisest  of  the  reverend  throng, 
Antenor  grave,  and  sage  Ucalegon, 
Lean'd  on  the  walls,  and  bask'd  before  the  sun. 
Chiefs  who  no  more  in  bloody  fights  engage, 
But  wise  through  time,  and  narrative  with  age, 
In  summer  days  like  grasshoppers  rejoice, 
A  bloodless  race,  that  send  a  feeble  voice. 
These,  when  the  Spartan  queen  approach'd  the  tower. 
In  secret  own'd  resistless  beauty's  power: 
They  cried,  No  wonder,  such  celestial  charms 
For  nine  long  yeai's  have  set  the  world  in  arms; 
What  winning  graces  !  what  majestic  mien! 
She  moves  a  Goddess,  and  she  looks  a  Queen! 
Yet  hence,  oh  Heaven  I  convey  that  fatal  face, 
And  from  destruction  save  the  Trojan  race."  * 

A  natural  and  usually  an  effective  way  of  giving  life  to 

a  description  is  to  use  words  that  suggest  mo-  words  that 

tion.     A  successful  example  of  this  method  is  motion. 

in  Mr.  Euskin's  description  of  the  Koman  Campagna :  — 

"  Perhaps  there  is  no  more  impressive  scene  on  earth  than  the 
solitary  extent  of  the  Campagna  of  Rome  under  evening  light. 
Let  the  reader  imagine  himself  for  a  moment  withdrawn  from  the 
sounds  and  motion  of  the  living  world,  and  sent  forth  alone  into 

1  Thackeray :  The  Virginians,  chap.  Iviii. 

*  Homer:  The  Iliad,  iii.  187.    Pope's  translation. 


272  KINDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

this  -nild  and  wasted  plain.  The  earth  yields  and  crumbles  be- 
neath his  foot,  tread  he  never  so  lightly,  for  its  substance  is  white, 
hollow,  and  carious,  like  the  dusty  wreck  of  the  bones  of  men. 
The  long  knotted  grass  waves  and  tosses  feebly  in  the  evening 
wind,  and  the  shadows  of  its  motion  shake  feverishly  along  the 
banks  of  ruin  that  lift  themselves  to  the  sunlight.  Hillocks  of 
mouldering  earth  heave  around  him,  as  if  the  dead  beneath  were 
struggling  in  their  sleep ;  scattered  blocks  of  black  stone,  four- 
square, remnants  of  mighty  edifices,  not  one  left  upon  another,  lie 
upon  them  to  keep  them  down.  A  dull  purple  poisonous  haze 
stretches  level  along  the  desert,  veiling  its  spectral  wrecks  of  massy 
ruins,  on  whose  rents  the  red  light  rests,  like  dying  fire  on  defiled 
altars.  The  blue  ridge  of  the  Alban  Mount  lifts  itself  against  a 
solemn  space  of  green,  clear,  quiet  sky.  Watch-towers  of  dark 
clouds  stand  steadfastly  along  the  promontories  of  the  Apennines. 
From  the  plain  to  the  mountains,  the  shattered  aqueducts,  pier 
beyond  pier,  melt  into  the  darkness,  like  shadowy  and  countless 
troops  of  funeral  mouimers,  passing  from  a  nation's  grave."  ^ 

This  scene  is  a  picture  of  death  and  silence,  but  the  still  aspects 
are  not  mentioned.  Everything  moves.  The  earth  "  yields  "  and 
"crumbles"  beneath  the  foot;  the  grass  "waves"  and  "tosses"  in 
■^-the  wind,  and  the  shadows  of  the  waving  grass  "  shake ;  "  hillocks 
of  earth  "  heave;"  a  haze  "stretches"  along  the  desert;  the  moun- 
tain "lifts"  itself  against  the  sky;  the  shattered  aqueducts  "melt 
into  the  darkness." 

Another  example  come'?  from  a  writer  who  has  done 
much  to  familiarize  his  readers  with  the  scenery  as  well 
as  with  the  art  of  Italy :  — 

"  The  road  between  Vietri  and  Amalfi  is  justly  celebrated  as  one 
of  the  most  lovely  pieces  of  coast  scenery  in  Italy.  .  .  .  On  first 
quitting  Vietri,  Salerno  is  left  low  down  upon  the  sea-shore,  nest- 
ling 2  into  a  little  corner  of  the  bay  which  bears  its  name,  and 
backed  up  by  gigantic  mountains.  With  each  onward  step  these 
mountain-ranges  expand  in  long  aerial  line,  revealing  reaches  of 
fantastic  peaks,  that  stretch  away  beyond  the  plain  of  Paestum, 

1  TJuskin :  Modern  Painters,  Prefare. 

2  An  overworked  word.    Mark  Twain  says,  "  Villages  nestle  and  roost." 


DESCRIPTION.  273 

till  they  end  at  last  in  mist  and  sunbeams  shimmering  on  the  sea. 
On  the  left  hand  hangs  the  cliff  above  the  deep  salt  water,  with 
here  and  there  a  fig-tree  spreading  fanlike  leaves  against  the  blue 
beneath.  On  the  right  rises  the  hill-side,  clothed  with  myrtle,  len- 
tisk,  cistus,  and  pale  yellow  corouilla  —  a  tangle  as  sweet  with 
scent  as  it  is  gay  with  blossom.  Over  the  parapet  that  skirts  the 
precipice  lean  heavy-foliaged  locust-trees,  and  the  terraces  in  sunny 
nooks  are  set  with  lemon-orchards.  There  are  but  few  olives,  and 
no  pines.  Meanwhile  each  turn  in  the  road  brings  some  change 
of  scene :  now  a  village  with  its  little  beach  of  gray  sand,  lapped 
by  clearest  sea-waves,  where  bare-legged  fishermen  mend  their 
nets,  and  naked  boys  bask  like  lizards  in  the  sun ;  now  towering 
bastions  of  weird  rock,  broken  into  spires  and  pinnacles  like  those 
of  Skye,  and  colored  with  bright  hues  of  red  and  orange ;  then  a 
ravine,  where  the  thin  thread  of  a  mountain  streamlet  seems  to 
hang  suspended  upon  ferny  ledges  in  the  limestone  —  or  a  preci- 
pice defined  in  profile  against  sea  and  sky,  with  a  lad,  half  dressed 
in  goat-skin,  dangling  his  legs  into  vacuity  and  singing  —  or  a  tract 
of  cultivation,  where  the  orange,  apricot,  and  lemon-trees  nestle 
together  upon  terraces  with  intermingled  pergolas  of  vines."  ^  >(* 

On  this  method  of  description  considered  from  a  psyT#» 
chologist's  point  of  view  Dr.  Eoyce  comments  as  follows : 

"  The  mountains  rise  into  the  sky,  or  lift  their  heads  ;  the  lake 
stretches  out  before  one's  sight;  the  tower  looms  up,  or  hangs 
over  the  spectator,  —  such  are  some  of  the  more  familiar  devices 
of  description.  An  exception  that  illustrates  the  rule  [that  words 
are  better  fitted  to  represent  movement  than  rest'^]  is  found  in 
the  case  of  very  bright  colors,  whose  interest  and  comparative 
brilliancy  in  the  mental  pictures  of  even  very  unimaginative  per- 
sons may  make  it  possible  for  the  descriptive  poet  to  name  them 
as  coexistent,  without  suggesting  motion,  particularly  if  he  render 
them  otherwise  especially  interesting.  So  in  the  well-known  de- 
scription, in  Keats's  '  St.  Agnes'  Eve,'  of  the  light  from  the  stained- 
glass  casement,  as  it  falls  on  the  praying  Madeline.  Even  here, 
however,  the  light  falls.     And  color-images,  however  brilliant,  are 

1  J.  A.  Symonds :  Sketches  in  Italy.  An  excellent  exam]ile  of  this 
method  is  Cardinal  lsewman"s  description  of  Attica,  in  "  Historical 
Sketches,"  vol.  iii.  chap.  iii.  "  See  pages  249-251. 

12* 


274  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

increased  in  vividness  by  the  addition  of  the  suggestion  of  mo. 
tion;  as  in  Shelley's  'Ode  to  the  West  Wind,'  where 

'  The  leaves  dead 
Are  driven  like  ghosts  from  an  enchanter  fleeing, 
Yellow,  and  black,  and  pale,  and  hectic  red. 
Pestilence  stricken  multitudes.' 

Much  less  effective  would  be  the  mention  of  the  most  brilliant 
autumn  hues  apart  from  motion. 

"  Lessing  gave  as  basis  for  this  theory  the  somewhat  abstract 
statement  that  language,  being  spoken  or  read  successively,  is  best 
fitted  to  portray  the  successive.  But  this  is  hardly  the  whole  story. 
The  modern  generalization  that  men  and  animals  alike  observe 
moving  more  easily  than  quiet  objects,  in  case  the  motion  is  not 
too  fast  or  too  slow,  seems  to  come  nearer  to  offering  an  explana- 
tion. But  this  account  is  still  incomplete ;  for  it  will  be  found 
that  we  do  not  alwf'ys  picture  mentally  the  motion  of  an  object, 
even  when  we  try  to  do  so.  To  see  a  man  walk  in  the  mind's  eye 
is  not  always  so  easy  as  to  picture  a  man  in  some  attitude.  ...  In 
many  dreams  we  must  all  have  noticed  that  the  rapid  transitions 
that  take  place  are  rather  known  as  motions  or  alterations  that 
have  happened,  than  as  changes  in  process  of  taking  place.  The 
present  writer's  own  image  with  Shelley's  lines  above  quoted  is  not 
so  much  of  dead  leaves  actually  moving,  as  of  the  leaves  rustling, 
with  the  sense  of  feeling  that  they  are  driven  by  the  wind.  The 
words  descriptive  of  motion  give,  rather,  the  feeling  of  action  con- 
nected with  the  leaves,  than  a  picture  of  movement  itself.  So,  to 
say  that  the  mountains  rise  is  to  direct  the  mental  eye  upwards, 
rather  than  to  introduce  any  picture  of  objective  motion  into  the 
mental  landscape."  ^ 

Sometimes  a  writer  gives  life  to  a  description  by  repre- 
senting the  objects  described  at  the  moment  of  their 
greatest  activity.     For  example :  — 

"  Hard  by  the  farmhouse  was  a  vast  barn,  that  might  have 
served  for  a  church ;  every  window  and  crevice  of  which  seemed 
bursting  forth  with  the  treasures  of  the  farm ;  the  flail  was  busily 

1  Josiah  Pvoyce;  Some  Recent  Studies  on  Ideas  of  Motion.  Science. 
[New  York]  Nov.  30,  1883,  p.  716. 


DESCRIPTION,  275 

resounding  within  it  from  morning  to  night;  swallows  and  mar- 
tins skimmed  twittering  about  the  eaves ;  and  rows  of  pigeons, 
sonre  witli  one  eye  turned  up,  as  if  watching  the  weather,  some 
with  their  heads  under  their  wings,  or  bm'ied  in  their  bosoms,  and 
others  swelling,  and  cooing,  and  bowing  about  their  dames,  were 
enjoying  the  sunshine  on  the  roof.  Sleek  unwieldy  porkers  were 
grunting  in  the  repose  and  abundance  of  their  pens ;  whence  sal- 
lied forth,  now  and  then,  troops  of  sucking  pigs,  as  if  to  snuff  the 
au".  A  stately  squadron  of  snowy  geese  were  riding  in  an  adjoin- 
ing pond,  convoying  whole  fleets  of  ducks ;  regiments  of  turkeys 
were  gobbling  through  the  farm-yard,  and  guinea  fowls  fretting 
about  it,  like  ill-tempered  housewives,  with  their  peevish  discon- 
tented cry.  Before  the  barn  door  strutted  the  gallant  cock,  that 
pattern  of  a  husband,  a  warrior,  and  a  fine  gentleman,  clapping 
his  burnished  wings,  and  crowing  in  the  pride  and  gladness  of  his 
heart  —  sometimes  tearing  up  the  earth  with  his  feet,  and  then 
generously  calling  his  ever-hungry  family  of  wives  and  children  to 
enjoy  the  rich  morsel  which  he  had  discovered."  ^ 

The  very  ordinary  scene  described  by  Irving  is  full  of  life.  The 
barn  is  "  bursting  "  with  grain  ;  the  flail  is  "  resounding ;  "  swal- 
lows are  "  skimming  "  about  the  eaves ;  pigeons,  pigs,  geese,  ducks, 
turkeys,  and  guinea  fowls  are  active  in  characteristic  ways,  and  the 
gallant  cock  in  the  foreground  is  busiest  of  aU. 

Another  method  of  giving  life  to  a  description  is  to 
throw  it  into  the  form  of  a  narrative.  A  famous  in- 
stance of  this  method  is  Homer's  description  The  narrative 
of  Achilles's  shield.  Instead  of  suspending  ^°™* 
the  narrative  while  describing  the  details  of  the  orna- 
mentation, Homer  represents  the  process  of  making  the 
shield.  He  does  not  attempt  to  paint  a  picture  ^dth 
words,  but  he  tells  the  story  of  the  manufacture  of 
the  shield  as  a  whole,  and  he  tells  a  separate  story 
about  each  scene  represented  on  it :  — 

"  And  first  he  forged  the  hupe  and  massive  shield, 
Divinely  wrought  in  every  part,  —  its  edge 

^  Irving :  The  Sketch  Book ;  The  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow. 


276  KINDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

Clasped  with  a  triple  border,  white  and  bright. 

A  silver  belt  hung  from  it,  and  its  folds 

Were  five ;  a  crowd  of  figures  on  its  disk 

Were  fashioned  by  the  artist's  passing  skill, 

For  here  he  placed  the  earth  and  heaven,  and  here 

The  great  deep  and  the  never-resting  sun 

And  the  full  moon,  and  here  he  set  the  stars 

That  shine  in  the  round  heaven,  —  the  Pleiades, 

The  Hyades,  Orion  in  his  strength, 

And  the  Bear  near  him,  called  by  some  the  Wain, 

That,  wheeling,  keeps  Orion  still  in  sight. 

Yet  bathes  not  in  the  waters  of  the  sea. 

"  There  placed  he  two  fair  cities  full  of  men. 
In  one  were  marriages  and  feasts;  they  led 
The  brides  witli  flaming  torches  from  their  bowers 
Along  tlie  streets,  with  many  a  nuptial  song. 
There  the  young  dancers  whirled,  and  flutes  and  l^Tes 
Gave  forth  their  sounds,  and  women  at  the  doors 
Stood  and  admired.     Meanwhile  a  multitude 
Was  in  the  forum,  where  a  strife  went  on, — 
Two  men  contending  for  a  fine,  the  price 
Of  one  who  had  been  slain.     Before  the  crowd 
One  claimed  that  he  had  paid  the  fine,  and  one 
Denied  that  aught  had  been  received,  and  both 
Called  for  the  sentence  which  should  end  the  strife. 
The  people  clamored  for  both  sides,  for  both 
Had  eager  friends  ;  the  heralds  held  the  crowd 
In  check  ;  the  elders,  upon  polished  stones, 
Sat  in  a  sacred  circle.     Each  one  took, 
In  turn,  a  herald's  sceptre  in  his  hand. 
And,  rising,  gave  his  sentence.     In  the  midst 
Two  talents  lay  in  gold,  to  be  the  meed 
Of  him  whose  juster  judgment  should  prevail. 

"  .\  round  the  other  city  sat  two  hosts 
In  shining  armor,  bent  to  lay  it  waste. 
Unless  the  dwellers  would  divide  their  wealth,  — 
All  that  tlieir  pleasant  homes  contained,  —  and  yield 
The  assailants  Iialf.     As  yet  the  citizens 
Had  not  complied,  but  secretly  had  planned 
An  ambush.    Their  beloved  wives  meanwhile, 
And  their  young  children,  stood  and  watched  the  walls, 
With  aged  men  among  them,  while  the  youths 
Marched  on,  with  Mars  and  Pallas  at  their  head, 


DESCRIPTION.  277 

Both  wrought  in  gold,  with  golden  garments  on, 

Stately  and  large  in  form,  and  over  all 

Conspicuous,  in  bright  armor,  as  became 

The  gods ;  the  rest  were  of  au  humbler  size. 

And  wheu  they  reached  the  spot  where  they  should  lie 

In  ambush,  by  a  river's  side,  a  place 

For  watering  herds,  they  sat  them  down,  all  armed 

In  shining  brass.     Apart  from  all  the  rest 

They  placed  two  sentries,  on  the  watch  to  spy 

The  approach  of  sheep  and  horned  i<.iue.     Soon  came 

The  herds  in  sight ;  two  shepherds  walked  with  them, 

Who,  all  unweetiug  of  the  evil  nigh, 

Solaced  their  task  with  music  from  their  reeds. 

The  warriors  saw  and  rushed  on  them,  and  took 
And  drave  away  large  prey  of  beeves,  and  flocks 
Of  fair  white  sheep,  whose  keepers  they  had  slain. 
When  the  besiegers  in  their  council  heard 
The  sound  of  tumult  at  the  watering  place, 
They  sprang  upon  their  nimble-footed  steeds. 
And  overtook  the  jjillagers.     Both  bauds 
Arrayed  tlieir  ranks  and  fought  beside  the  stream, 
And  smote  each  other.     There  did  Discord  rage, 
And  Tumult,  and  the  great  Destroyer,  Fate. 
One  wounded  warrior  she  had  seized  alive. 
And  one  unwounded  yet,  and  through  the  field 
Dragged  by  the  foot  another,  dead.     Her  robe 
Was  reddened  o'er  the  sliunlders  with  the  blood 
From  human  veins.     Like  living  men  the}'  ranged 
The  battle-field,  and  dragged  by  turns  tlie  slain. 

"  Last  on  the  border  of  that  glorious  shield 
He  graved  in  all  its  strength  the  ocean-stream."  ^ 

A  similar  device  is  employed  by  Anacreon  when  lie 
represents  an  artist  in  the  act  of  painting  a  beautiful 
woman  ;  by  Schiller,  in  "  The  Song  of  the  Bell ; "  by  Long- 
fellow, in  "The  Building  of  the  Ship."  Akin  to  this 
method  is  that  which  Scott  uses  in  the  following  descrip- 
tion :   he  represents  the  boats  and  all  that  they  carry, 

1  Homer:  The  Iliad,  xviii.  601.     Bryant's  translation. 


278  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

not  as  they  would  look  in  a  picture,  but  as  they  would 
look  to  one  who  saw  them  gradually  approaching :  — 

"  Far  up  the  lengtheu'd  lake  were  spied 
Four  darkening  specks  upon  tlie  tide, 
That,  slow  enlarging  on  the  view, 
Four  mann'd  and  masted  barges  grew, 
And,  bearing  downwards  from  Glengyle, 
Steer'd  full  upon  the  lonely  isle ; 
The  point  of  Brianchoil  they  pass'd. 
And,  to  the  windward  as  they  cast. 
Against  the  sun  they  gave  to  shine 
The  bold  Sir  Roderick's  banner 'd  Pine. 
Nearer  and  nearer  as  they  bear. 
Spear,  pikes,  and  axes  flash  in  air. 
Now  miglit  you  see  tlie  tartans  brave. 
And  plaids  and  plumage  dance  and  wave: 
Now  see  the  bonnets  sink  and  rise. 
As  his  tough  oar  the  rower  plies ; 
See,  flashing  at  each  sturdy  stroke, 
The  wave  ascending  into  smoke ; 
^ee  the  proud  pipers  on  the  bow. 
And  mark  the  gaudv  streamers  flow."l 


&" 


Another  example  of  description  in  the  form  of  a  nar- 
rative is  Mr.  Eudyard  Kipling's  "  City  of  Dreadful 
Night."  2  Still  another  example  is  the  following  extract 
from  one  of  Mr.  Crawford's  romances  :  — 

"And  with  all  that,  and  with  the  certainty  that  those  things 
were  gone  for  ever,  arose  the  great  longing  for  one  more  breath 
of  liberty,  for  one  more  vide  over  the  boundless  steppe,  for  one 
more  draught  of  the  sour  kvass,  of  the  camp  brew  of  rye  and 
malt. 

"  The  longing  for  such  things,  for  one  thing  almost  unattain- 
able, is  in  man  and  beast  at  certain  times.  In  the  distant  northern 
plains,  a  hundred  miles  from  the  sea,  in  the  midst  of  the  Lapland- 
er's village,  a  young  reindeer  raises  his  broad  muzzle  to  the  north 
wind,  and  stares  at  the  limitless  distance  while  a  man  may  count  a 

1  Scott :  The  Lady  of  the  Lake,  canto  ii.  stanza  xvi. 

2  Rudyard  Kipling:  Life's  Handicap. 


DESCRIPTION.  279 

hundred.    He  grows  restless  from  that  moment,  but  he  is  yet  alone. 
The  nest  day,  a  dozen  of  the  herd  look  up,  from  the  cropping  of 
the  moss,  snuifing  the  breeze.     Then  the  Laps  nod  to  one  another, 
and  the  camp  grows  daily  more  unquiet.    At  times,  the  whole  herd 
of  young  deer  stand  at  gaze,  as  it  were,  breathing  hard  through 
wide  nostrils,  then  jostling  each  other  and  stamping  the  soft  ground. 
They  grow  unruly,  and  it  is  hard  to  harness  them  in  the  light 
sledge.     As  the  days  pass,  the  Laps  watch  them  more  and  more 
closely,  well  knowing  wiiat  will  happen  sooner  or  later.     And  then 
at  last,  in  the  northern  twilight,  the  great  herd  begins  to  move. 
The  impulse  is  simultaneous,  irresistible,  their  heads  are  all  turned 
in  one  direction.      They  move  slowly  at  first,  biting  still,  here  and 
there,  at  the  bunches  of  rich  moss.     Presently  the  slow  step  be- 
comes a  trot,  they  crowd  closely  together,  while  the  Laps  hasten  to 
gather  up  their  last  unpacked  possessions,  their  cooking  utensils 
and  their  wooden  gods.     That  great  herd  break  together  from  a 
trot  to  a  gallop,  from  a  gallop  to  a  break-neck  race ;  the  distant 
thunder  of  their  united  tread  reaches   the   camp  during  a   few 
minutes,  and  they  are  gone  to  drink  of  the  polar  sea.     The  Laps 
follow  after  them,  dragging  painfully  their  laden  sledges  in  the 
broad  track  left  by  the  thousands  of  galloping  beasts  —  a  day's 
journey,  and  they  are  yet  far  from  the  sea,  and  the  trail  is  yet 
broad.     On  the  second  day  it  grows  narrower,  and  there  are  stains 
of  blood  to  be  seen ;  far  on  the  distant  plain  before  them  their 
sharp  eyes  distinguish  in  the  direct  line  a  dark,  motionless  object, 
another  and  then  another.     The  race  has  grown  more  desperate  and 
more  wild  as  the  stampede  neared  the  sea.      The  weaker  reindeer 
have  been  thrown  down,  and  trampled  to  death  by  their  stronger 
fellows.     A  thousand  sharp  hoofs  have  crushed  and  cut  through 
hide  and  flesh  and  bone.     Ever  swifter  and  more  terrible  in  their 
motion,  the  ruthless  herd  has  raced  onward,  careless  of  the  slain, 
careless  of  food,  careless  of  any  drink  but  the  sharp  salt  water 
ahead  of  them.     And  when  at  last  the  Laplanders  reach  the  shore 
their  deer  are  once  more  quietly  grazing,  once  more  tame  and 
docile,  once  more  ready  to  drag  the  sledge  whithersoever  they 
are  guided.     Once  in  his  life  the  reindeer  must  taste  of  the  sea  in 
one  long,  satisfying  draught,  and  if  he  is  hindered  he  perishes. 
Neither  man  nor  beast  dare  stand  between  him  and  the  ocean  in 
the  hundred  miles  of  his  arrow-like  path. 


280  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

"  Something  of  this  longing  came  upon  the  Cossact,  as  he  sud' 
denly  remembered  the  sour  taste  of  tlie  kvass,  to  the  recollection 
of  which  he  had  been  somehow  led  by  a  train  of  thought  which 
had  begun  with  Vjera's  love  lor  the  Count,  to  end  abruptly  in 
a  camp  kettle."  ^ 

It  is  not  always  easy  to  draw  the  line  between  descrip- 
tions in  narrative  form  and  narratives  proper ;  but  usu- 
ally the  reader  can  reach  a  decision  by  asking  himself 
what  the  writer's  purpose  is.^  If  his  purpose  is  to 
present  a  person  or  a  scene  to  the  reader's  imagination, 
the  result  may  safely  be  called  description;  if  his  pur- 
pose is  to  tell  of  acts  or  events,  the  result  may  safely  be 
called  narration. 

1  F.  Marion  Crawford :  A  Cigarette  Maker's  Romance,  chap.  vii. 

2  With  this  question  in  mind,  the  student  may  profitably  examine  the 
citations  on  pages  270,  271. 


CHAPTER  11. 

NAKRATION. 

Narration,  like  description,  concerns  itself  with  per- 
sons or  things ;  but,  whereas  description  tries  to  show 
persons  or  things  as  they  are  or  as  they  appear  Narration 
to  be,  narration  tells  what  they  do  or  what  is  fromTicS 
done  to  them.       In  description,  a  writer  is  '"'"' 
tempted  to  use  language  as  if  it  could  do  what  is  better 
done  by  painting,  sculpture,  or  music  ;^  in  narration,  he 
is  exposed  to  no  such  temptation,  for  words  tell  a  story 
better  than  brush,  chisel,  or  musical  tones. 

As  the  main  purpose  of  narration  is  to  tell  a  story,  a 
narrative  should  move  from  the  beginninsf  to  the  end, 
and  it  should  move   with    method.      If   the  Essentials  of 

11  1  1      )  •  1     1  •   1       ^  good  narra- 

action  halts,  the  reader  s  attention  halts  with   tive. 
it ;  if  the  action  is  confused  or  self-repeating,  the  read- 
er's mind  is  soon  fatigued.     Movement  and  method,  the 
life  and  the  logic  of  discourse,  are,  then,  the  essentials  of 
a  good  narrative. 

These  essentials  seem  so  easy  of  attainment  that  people 
are  in  the  habit  of  saying,  "  Anybody  can  write  a  story  ; " 
but  in  point  of  fact  narration  is  very  difficult.  Examples  of 
for  few  even  of  those  who  have  a  natural  gift  "="'''''"°°- 
for  story-telling  are  willing  to  cast  aside  everything  tliat 
would  obstruct  the  flow.     To  show  exactly  what  is  meant 

1  See  pages  249-251,  256. 


282  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

by  narration,  it  would  be  necessary  to  give  examples  of 
narration  that  is  nothing  but  narration,  and  examples  of 
this  sort  are  exceedingly  rare.  Parts  of  "  Eobinson  Cru- 
soe "  come  very  near  being  such  ;  as,  for  instance,  Crusoe's 
account  of  his  discovery  of  the  footprint  in  the  sand :  — 

"  It  happened,  one  day,  about  noon,  going  towards  my  boat,  I 
was  exceedingly  surprised  with  the  print  of  a  man's  naked  foot  on 
the  shore,  which  was  very  plain  to  be  seen  in  the  sand.  I  stood 
like  one  thunder-struck,  or  as  if  I  had  seen  an  apparition.  I  lis- 
tened, I  looked  round  me,  I  could  hear  nothing,  nor  see  any  thing. 
I  went  up  to  a  rising  ground  to  look  farther.  I  went  up  the  shore, 
and  down  the  shore,  but  it  was  all  one,  I  could  see  no  other  impres- 
sion but  that  one.  I  went  to  it  again  to  see  if  there  were  any  more, 
and  to  observe  if  it  might  not  be  my  fancy ;  but  there  was  no  room 
for  that,  for  there  was  exactly  the  very  print  of  a  foot,  toes,  heel, 
and  every  part  of  a  foot.  How  it  came  thither  I  knew  not,  nor 
could  in  the  least  imagine.  But,  after  innumerable  fluttering 
thoughts,  like  a  man  perfectly  confused  and  out  of  myself,  I 
came  home  to  my  fortification,  not  feeling,  as  we  say,  the  ground 
I  went  on,  but  terrified  to  the  last  degree,  looking  behind  me  at 
every  two  or  three  steps,  mistaking  every  bush  and  tree,  and  fancy- 
ing every  stump  at  a  distance  to  be  a  man."  ^ 

Another  example  comes  from  a  recent  work  by  a  living 
author :  — 

"  The  moon  was  sinking  behind  the  hills,  and  the  lines  of  trem- 
bling monkeys  huddled  together  on  the  walls  and  battlements 
looked  like  ragged,  shaky  fringes  of  things.  Baloo  went  down  to 
the  tank  for  a  drink,  and  Bagheera  began  to  put  his  fur  in  order, 
as  Kaa  glided  out  into  the  centre  of  the  terrace  and  brought  his 
jaws  together  with  a  ringing  snap  that  drew  all  the  monkeys'  eyes 
upon  him. 

"  '  The  moon  sets,'  he  said.     '  Is  there  yet  light  to  see  ? ' 

"  From  the  walls  came  a  moan  like  the  wind  in  the  tree-tops : 
'  We  see,  O  Kaa  ! ' 

"  '  Good  !  Begins  now  the  Dance  —  the  Dance  of  the  Hunger 
of  Kaa.     Sit  still  and  watch.' 

1  Daniel  Defoe :  Robinson  Crusoe. 


NARRATION.  283 

"  He  turned  twice  or  thrice  in  a  big  circle,  weaving  his  head 
from  right  to  left.  Then  he  began  making  loops  and  figures  of 
eight  with  his  bodj^  and  soft,  oozy  triangles  that  melted  into 
squares  and  five-sided  figures,  and  coiled  mounds,  never  resting, 
never  hurrying,  and  never  stopping  his  low,  humming  song.  It 
grew  darker  and  darker,  till  at  last  the  dragging,  shifting  coils 
disappeared,  but  they  could  hear  the  rustle  of  the  scales. 

"Baloo  and  Bagheera  stood  still  as  stone,  growling  in  their 
throats,  their  neck-hair  bristling,  and  Mowgli  watched  and  won- 
dered. 

"  '  Bandar-log,'  said  the  voice  of  Kaa  at  last,  '  can  ye  stir  foot  or 
hand  without  my  order  ?     Speak  ! ' 

"  '  Without  thy  order  we  cannot  stir  foot  or  hand,  O  Kaa ! ' 

"  '  Good  !     Come  all  one  pace  nearer  to  me.' 

"  The  lines  of  the  monkeys  swayed  forward  helplessly,  and  Baloo 
and  Bagheera  took  one  stiff  step  forward  with  them. 

"  *  Nearer  ! '  hissed  Kaa,  and  they  all  moved  again. 

"  Mowgli  laid  his  hands  on  Baloo  and  Bagheera  to  get  them 
away,  and  the  two  great  beasts  started  as  though  they  had  been 
waked  from  a  dream. 

"  '  Keep  thy  hand  on  my  shoulder,'  Bagheera  whispered.  '  Keep 
it  there,  or  I  must  go  back  —  must  go  back  to  Kaa.     Aah  ! ' 

"  '  It  is  only  old  Kaa  making  circles  on  the  dust,'  said  ]\Iowgli ; 
'  let  us  go  ; '  and  the  three  slipped  off  through  a  gap  in  the  walls 
to  the  jungle. 

"'  Whoof!'  said  Baloo,  when  he  stood  under  the  still  trees 
again.  '  Never  more  will  I  make  an  ally  of  Kaa,'  and  he  shook 
himself  all  over. 

"  '  He  knows  more  than  we,'  said  Bagheera,  trembling.  '  In  a 
little  time,  had  T  stayed,  I  should  have  walked  down  his  throat.' 

"  '  Many  will  walk  that  road  before  the  moon  rises  again,'  said 
Baloo.     '  He  will  have  good  hunting  —  after  his  own  fashion.'  "  ^ 

Even  books  like  those  from  which  the  foregoing  pas- 
sages are  taken  contain  many  pages  that  are  not  purely 
narrative.  To  render  a  story  intelligible,  there  must  be 
some  description  (as,  for  instance,  in  the  first  sentence  of 

1  Rudyard  Kipliug :  The  Juugle  Book ;  Kaa's  Hunting. 


284  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  passage  just  quoted  from  "The  Jungle  Book");  but 
this  should  be  so  introduced  as  to  form  part  and  parcel 
of  the  story.  Descriptions  "  should  seem,  as  in  Homer 
and  Chaucer,  for  instance,  they  always  seem,  inevitable 
and  half  unconscious."  ^ 

Before  considering  what  constitutes  movement  and 
method  in  narration,  a  student  will  do  well  to  look  at 
some  well-known  stories  so  short  that  one  or  more  can 
easily  be  read  at  a  sitting,  and  to  ask  himself  as  he  reads 
what  it  is  that  makes  these  stories  successful. 

Among  authors  whose  short  stories  have  influenced  the 
work  of  succeeding  writers  are  Irving,  Hawthorne,  and 
Poe.  Of  Irving's  style  a  favorable  example  is  "  Rip  Van 
Winkle ; "  of  Hawthorne's,  "  The  Snow  Image ; "  of  Poe's, 
"  The  Fall  of  the  House  of  Usher." 

Within  the  last  twenty-five  years  the  short  story  has 
become  an  important  part  of  literature,  especially  in 
Prance.  "  No  small  part  of  Maupassant's  success,"  says 
Mr.  Henry  James,  "  comes  from  his  countrymen's  pride 
in  seeing  him  add  to  a  collection  which  is  already 
a  national  glory."  ^  In  the  volume  of  Maupassant's 
stories  which  Mr.  James  introduces  to  the  American 
reader,  "  The  Piece  of  String,"  "  La  Mere  Sauvage,"  and 
"  Little  Soldier "  deserve  special  commendation.  In 
the  telling  of  short  stories  no  writer  has  surpassed 
Maupassant;  but  much  creditable  work  of  this  kind 
has  been  done  in  English.  Among  noteworthy  short 
stories  by  living  authors  may  be  mentioned  "The  Iliad 
of  Sandy  Bar"  and  "The  Luck  of  Roaring  Camp,"  by 
Mr.  P.   Bret  Harte;    "The  Man  Without  a   Country," 

1  The  [London]  Athenaeum,  Nov.  3,  1883,  p.  561. 

2  Introduction  to  "The  Odd  Number:  Tliirteen  Tales  by  Guy  da 
Maupassant,"  translated  by  Jonathan  Sturges. 


NAKEATION.  285 

by  Rev.  Edward  Everett  Hale;  " Rikki-Tikki-Tavi "  and 
other  stories  in  "  The  Jungle  Book,"  and  "  The  Sending 
of  Dana  Da,"  by  Mr. '  Eudyard  Kipling ;  "  A  Village 
Singer "  and  "  An  Honest  Soul,"  by  Miss  Mary  E.  Wil- 
kins;  "The  Griffin  and  the  Minor  Canon,"  by  Mr. 
Frank  R.  Stockton  ;  "  Van  Bibber  and  the  Swan-Boats  " 
and  "An  Unfinished  Story,"  by  Mr.  Richard  Harding 
Davis. 

SECTION    I. 

MOVEMENT. 

A  narrative  may  move  rapidly,  as  in  the  best  work  of 
Charles  Reade,  Wilkie  Collins,  Stevenson,  or  Mr.  Kip- 
linor ;    or   slowly,   as   with   Richardson,    Jane  Movement 

°  '  "'  may  be  rapid 

Austen,  or  Anthony  Trollope,  —  but  MOVE-  or  slow. 
MENT  it  must  have.  The  story  that  moves  swiftly  omits 
every  detail  that  can  possibly  be  spared,  selects  what  is 
most  characteristic,  and  lays  stress  on  that:  the  story 
that  moves  slowly  may  give  many  details,  but,  if  it 
is  well  told,  these  details  are  so  arranged  that  each 
contributes  to  the  general  efiect.  In  the  swift  story,  the 
characters  show  what  they  are  by  what  they  do  rather 
than  by  what  they  say,  and  the  conversations  are  so 
introduced  that  they  seem  to  be  parts  of  the  action :  in 
the  slower  story,  since  the  characters  are  more  complex 
and  need  more  explanation  than  action  alone  can  give, 
dialogues  play  a  more  important  part. 

Every  story,  whether  it  moves  swiftly  or  slowly,  is  suc- 
cessful or  unsuccessful  as  a  narrative  according  as  it  is 
or  is  not  interrupted.     To  show  the  difference  Movement 

J  1  •  •  1     should  be 

between  a  narrative  that  keeps  m  motion  and  constant. 
one  that  stops  by  the  way,  two  bear-stories  may  be  useful. 


286  KINDS  OF   COMPOSITION. 

One  of  these  is  from  Charles  Reade's  masterpiece,  "  The 
Cloister  and  the  Hearth  "  :  — 

"  Gerard  ran  back  to  his  tree  and  climbed  it  swiftly.  But, 
while  his  legs  were  dangling  some  eight  feet  from  the  ground, 
the  bear  came  rearing  and  struck  with  her  fore-paw,  and  out  flew 
a  piece  of  bloody  cloth  from  Gerard's  hose.  He  climbed  and 
climbed  ;  and  presently  he  heard,  as  it  were  in  the  air,  a  voice 
say,  '  Go  out  on  the  bough ! '  He  looked,  and  there  was  a  long, 
massive  branch  before  him,  shooting  upwards  at  a  slight  angle ; 
he  threw  his  body  across  it,  and  by  a  series  of  convulsive  efforts 
worked  up  it  to  the  end. 

"  Then  he  looked  round,  panting. 

"  The  bear  was  mounting  the  tree  on  the  other  side.  He  heard 
her  claws  scrape,  and  saw  her  bulge  on  both  sides  of  the  massive 
tree.  Her  eye  not  being  very  quick,  she  reached  the  fork  and 
passed  it,  mounting  the  main  stem.  Gerard  drew  breath  more 
freely.  The  bear  either  heard  him,  or  found  by  scent  she  was 
wrong :  she  paused ;  presently  she  caught  sight  of  him.  She 
eyed  him  steadily,  then  quietly  descended  to  the  fork. 

"  Slowly  and  cautiously  she  stretched  out  a  paw  and  tried  the 
bough.  It  was  a  stiff  oak  branch,  sound  as  iron.  Instinct  taught 
the  creature  this  ;  it  crawled  carefully  out  on  the  bough,  growling 
savagely  as  it  came. 

"  Gerard  looked  wildly  down.  He  was  forty  feet  from  the 
ground.  Death  below.  Death  moving  slow  but  sure  on  him  in  a 
still  more  horrible  form.  His  hair  bristled.  The  sweat  poured 
from  him.     He  sat  helpless,  fascinated,  tongue-tied. 

"  As  the  fearful  monster  crawled  growling  towards  him,  in- 
congruous thoughts  coursed  through  his  mind.  Margaret,  —  the 
Vulgate,  where  it  speaks  of  the  rage  of  a  she-bear  robbed  of  her 
whelps,  —  Rome,  —  Eternity. 

"  The  bear  crawled  on.  And  now  the  stupor  of  death  fell  on 
the  doomed  man  ;  he  saw  the  opened  jaws  and  bloodshot  eyes 
coming,  but  in  a  mist. 

"  As  in  a  mist  he  heard  a  twang ;  he  glanced  down ;  Denys, 
white  and  silent  as  death,  was  shooting  up  at  the  bear.  The 
bear  snarled  at  the  twang,  but  crawled  on.  Again  the  cross-bow 
twanged ;  and  the  bear  snarled  and  came  nearer.  Again  the 
cross-bow  twanged,  and  the  next  moment  the  bear  was  close  upon 


NARRATION.  287 

Gerard,  where  he  sat,  with  hair  standing  stiff  on  end  and  eyes 
starting  from  their  sockets,  palsied.  The  bear  opened  her  jaws 
like  a  grave  ;  and  hot  blood  spouted  from  them  upon  Gerard  as 
from  a  pump.  The  bough  rocked.  The  wounded  monster  was 
reeling  ;  it  clung,  it  stuck  its  sickles  of  claws  deep  into  the  wood  ; 
it  toppled ;  its  claws  held  firm,  but  its  body  rolled  off,  and  the  sud- 
den shock  to  the  branch  shook  Gerard  forward  on  his  stomach 
with  his  face  on  one  of  the  bear's  straining  paws.  At  this,  by  a 
convulsive  effort  she  raised  her  head  up,  up,  till  he  felt  her  hot, 
fetid  breath.  Then  huge  teeth  snapped  together  loudly  close  be- 
low him  in  the  air,  with  a  last  effort  of  bafHed  hate.  The  ponderous 
carcase  rent  the  claws  out  of  the  bough,  then  pounded  the  earth 
with  a  tremendous  thump.  There  was  a  shout  of  triumph  below, 
and  the  very  next  instant  a  cry  of  dismay ;  for  Gerard  had 
swooned,  and,  without  an  attempt  to  save  himself,  rolled  headlong 
from  the  perilous  height."  ^ 

In  sharp  contrast  with  this  straightforward  narrative  is 
Captain  Mayne  Eeid's  account  of  a  similar  adventure : 

"  '  See  ! '  exclaimed  Ivan,  whose  eyes  had  been  lifted  from  the 
trail,  and  bent  impatiently  forward  ;  —  '  see  !  by  the  great  Peter  ! 
yonder  's  a  hole,  under  the  root  of  that  tree.  Why  might  it  not  be 
his  cave  ? ' 

"  '  It  looks  like  enough.  Hush  !  let  us  keep  to  the  trail,  and  go 
up  to  it  with  caution  —  not  a  word  !  ' 

"  All  three,  now  scarce  breathing  —  lest  the  sound  should  be 
heard  —  stole  silently  along  the  trail.  The  fresh-fallen  snow,  still 
soft  as  eider-down,  enabled  them  to  proceed  without  making  the 
slightest  noise  ;  and  without  making  any,  they  crept  up,  till  within 
half  a  dozen  paces  of  the  tree. 

"  Ivan's  conjecture  was  likely  to  prove  correct.  There  was  a 
line  of  tracks  leading  up  the  bank ;  and  around  the  orifice  of  the 
cavity  ^  the  snow  was  considerably  trampled  down  —  as  if  the  bear 
had  turned  himself  two  or  three  times  before  entering.  That  he 
had  entered,  the  hunters  did  not  entertain  a  doubt :  there  were  no 
return  tracks  visible  in  the  snow  —  only  the  single  line  that  led  up 

1  Charles  Reade  :  The  Cloister  and  the  Heartn,  chap.  xxiv. 
^  See  pages  102-104. 


288  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

to  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  this  seemed  to  prove  conclusivelj 
that  Bruin  was  '  at  liome.'  " 

Here  the  writer  stops,  and  begins  a  new  chapter  as  follows :  — 
"  As  already  stated,  it  is  the  custom  of  the  brown  bear,  as  well 
as  of  several  other  species,  to  go  to  sleep  for  a  period  of  several 
months  every  winter,  —  in  other  words,  to  hybernate."  ^ 

Then  follow  four  pages  on  the  hibernation  of  bears,  at  the  end 
of  which  Captain  Reid  goes  back  to  the  story  about  the  hunters' 
attempts  to  stir  up  the  bear.  Three  pages  later  the  patient  reader 
learns  that  the  bear  is  not  in  the  cave  at  all,  but  in  a  tree  directly 
over  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 

In  a  long  narrative,  whether  of  real  or  of  fictitious 
events,  pages  of  reflection,  of  analysis,  of  comment,  may 
properly  be  introduced  if  they  clear  the  way  for  the  story, 
intensify  interest  in  it,  or  assist  in  its  development ;  but 
if  they  obstruct  the  story  or  divert  it  from  its  natural 
course,  they  cannot  but  injure  it  as  a  narrative. 

"  There  should,"  says  Trollope,  "  be  no  episodes  in  a  novel.  .  .  . 
Such  episodes  distract  the  attention  of  the  reader,  and  always  do 
so  disagreeably.  Who  has  not  felt  this  to  be  the  case  even  with 
The  Curious  Impertinent  and  with  the  History  of  the  Man  oj  the 
Hill.  And  if  it  be  so  with  Cervantes  and  Fielding,  who  can  hope 
to  succeed  ?  Though  the  novel  which  you  have  to  write  must  be 
long,  let  it  be  all  one.  And  this  exclusion  of  episodes  should  be 
carried  down  into  the  smallest  details.  Every  sentence  and  every 
word  used  should  tend  to  the  telling  of  the  story."  * 

If  the  sole  aim  of  a  novel  were  to  tell  a  story,  Trollope 
would  be  right  in  saying  that  there  should  be  no  "  epi- 
sodes "  in  it ;  but  the  story  is  only  a  small  part  of  some 
great  novels.  Compare  "  Henry  Esmond"  with  "  Les  Trois 
Mousquetaires."  In  "Les  Trois  Mousquetaires,"  Dumas 
never  drops  the  thread  of  his  story.    In  "  Henry  Esmond," 

^  Captain  Mayne  Reid  :  Bruin,  The  Grand  Bear  Hunt,  chaps,  viii.  ix. 
^  Anthony  Trollops :  An  Autobiography,  chap.  xii. 


NARRATION.  289 

Thackeray  drops  his  thread  very  often ;  but  he  does  so  in 
order  to  make  observations  on  life,  —  observations  that 
sometimes  have  not  a  very  close  connection  with  either 
the  main  incidents  or  the  principal  characters,  but  that 
are  to  some  readers  more  interesting  than  the  narrative 
itself.  Dumas,  as  Tiiackeray  would  have  been  the  first  to 
admit,  is  the  better  story-teller;  but  Thackeray,  in  the 
judgment  of  many,  is  the  greater  novelist.  The  question 
of  comparative  merit  between  Jane  Austen  and  George 
Eliot  is  a  more  difficult  one.  Of  Miss  Austen's  superiority 
as  a  narrator  there  can  be  no  doubt :  the  action  in  her 
novels  is  quite  as  rapid  as  the  provincial  life  they  record, 
and  it  IS  never  retarded  by  descriptions  or  refiections. 
George  Eliot's  novels  —  especially  the  later  ones  —  move 
with  unnecessary  slowness,  and  often  stop  by  the  way  for 
an  analysis  of  character  or  the  elucidation  of  a  principle ; 
but  it  is  these  parts  of  her  work  that  many  of  her  readers 
value  most  highly. 

When,  however,  inferior  writers  try  to  follow  the  ex- 
ample of  Thackeray  or  of  George  Eliot,  the  result  is 
deplorable.  Eeaders  lose  their  interest  in  a  story  on 
which  the  writer  himself  sets  so  slight  a  value  that  he 
is  easily  diverted  from  it,  and  they  find  no  compensating 
pleasure  in  trite  remarks. 

SECTION  II. 

METHOD    IN    MOVEMENT. 

It  is  not  enough  that  a  narrative  should  move  ;  it  should 
move  forward,  it  should  have  method.     In  some  kinds  of 
composition  method,  important  as  it  generally  Meaning  and 
is,  is  not  essential  to  success.     A  philosopher  ^^ethodSn 
may  contribute  detached  sayings  (aphorisms)   '""vement. 

13 


290  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

to  the  general  stock  of  wisdom ;  an  essayist  may  be 
charming  as  he  rambles  in  pleasant  fields  of  thought  and 
gossips  with  his  readers ;  but  a  narrator  fails  as  a  nar- 
rator in  so  far  as  he  does  not  go  straight  on  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  end.  A  story-teller  who  runs  this  way  and 
that  in  pursuit  of  something  which  is  entirely  aside  from 
his  narrative,  and  who  returns  to  his  subject  as  if  by 
accident,  is  perhaps  the  most  vexatious  of  all  who  try  to 
communicate  by  language  with  their  fellow-beings. 

To  secure  method  in  movement,  a  writer  should  keep 
one  point  of  view  until  he  has  good  reason  to  change  it. 
One  point  of  When  he  adopts  another  point  of  view,  he 
"^'^'  should  in  some  way  apprise  the  reader  that  he 

has  done  so.  In  the  following  account  of  a  boat-race, 
there  is  no  change  in  point  of  view :  — 

"  Few  things  in  this  vale  of  tears  are  more  worthy  a  pen  of 
tire  than  an  English  boat-race  is,  as  seen  by  the  runners ;  of  whom 
I  have  often  been  one.  But  this  race  I  am  bound  to  indicate,  not 
describe ;  I  mean,  to  show  how  it  appeared  to  two  ladies  seated  on 
the  Henley  side  of  the  Thames,  nearly  opposite  the  winning-post. 
These  fair  novices  then  looked  all  down  the  river,  and  could  just 
discern  two  whitish  streaks  on  the  water,  one  on  each  side  the  lit- 
tle fairy  isle ;  and  a  great  black  patch  on  the  Berkshire  bank.  The 
threatening  streaks  were  the  two  racing  boats  :  the  black  patch 
was  about  a  hundred  Cambridge  and  Oxford  men,  ready  to  run 
and  hallo  with  the  boats  all  the  way 

"  There  was  a  long  uneasy  suspense. 

"  At  Jast  a  puff  of  smoke  issued  from  a  pistol  down  at  the 
island  ;  two  oars  seemed  to  splash  into  the  water  from  each  white 
streak;  and  the  black  patch  was  moving;  so  were  the  threatening 
streaks.  Presently  was  heard  a  faint,  continuous,  distant  murmur, 
and  the  streaks  began  to  get  larger,  and  larger,  and  larger ;  and 
the  eight  splashing  oars  looked  four  instead  of  two. 

"  Every  head  was  now  turned  down  the  river.  Groups  hung 
craning  over  it  like  nodding  bulrushes. 

"  Next  the  runners  were  swelled  by  the  stragglers  they  picked 


NARRATION.  291 

np;  so  were  their  voices;  and  on  came  the  splashing  oars  and 
roaring  iungs. 

"Now  the  colours  of  the  racing  Jerseys  peeped  distinct.  The 
oarsmen's  heads  and  bodies  came  swinging  back  like  one,  and  the 
oars  seemed  to  lash  the  water  savagely,  like  a  connected  row  of 
swords,  and  the  spray  squii-ted  at  each  vicious  stroke.  The  boats 
leaped  and  darted  side  by  side,  and,  looking  at  them  in  front,  Julia 
could  not  say  which  was  ahead.  On  they  came  nearer  and  nearer, 
with  hundreds  of  voices  vociferating,  '  Go  it,  Cambridge  ! '  '  Well 
pulled,  Oxford  ! '  '  You  are  gaining,  hurrah  !  '  '  Well  pulled, 
Trinity ! '  '  Hurrah  ! '  '  Oxford  1 '  '  Cambridge  ! '  '  Now  is  your 
time,  Hardie  ;  pick  her  up  ! '  '  Oh,  well  pulled.  Six  ! '  '  Well 
pulled.  Stroke  ! '  '  Up,  up  !  lift  her  a  bit ! '  '  Cambridge  1 '  « Ox- 
ford ! '     '  Hurrah  ! ' 

"  At  this  Julia  turned  red  and  pale  by  turns.  '  Oh,  mamma  !  * 
said  she,  clasping  her  hands  and  colouring  high,  '  would  it  be  very 
wrong  if  I  was  to  pran  for  Oxford  to  win  ?  ' 

"  Mrs.  Dodd  had  a  monitory  finger ;  it  was  on  her  left  hand  : 
she  raised  it ;  and,  that  moment,  as  if  she  had  given  a  signal,  the 
boats,  foreshortened  no  longer,  shot  out  to  treble  the  length  they 
had  looked  hitherto,  and  came  broadside  past  our  palpitating  fair, 
the  elastic  rowers  stretched  like  greyhounds  in  a  chase,  darting 
forward  at  each  stroke  so  boldly  they  seemed  flying  out  of  the 
boats,  and  surging  back  as  superbly,  an  eightfold  human  wave : 
their  nostrils  all  open,  the  lips  of  some  pale  and  glutinous ;  their 
white  teeth  all  clenched  grimly,  their  young  eyes  all  glowing,  their 
supple  bodies  swelling,  the  muscles  writhing  beneath  their  Jerseys, 
and  the  sinews  starting  on  each  bare  brown  arm ;  their  little  shrill 
coxswains  shouting  imperiously  at  the  j'oung  giants,  and  w-orking  to 
and  fro  with  them,  like  jockeys  at  a  finish  ;  nine  souls  and  bodies 
flung  whole  into  each  magnificent  effort ;  water  foaming  and  fly- 
ing, rowlocks  ringing,  crowd  running,  tumbling,  and  howling  like 
mad ;  and  Cambridge  a  boat's  nose  ahead. 

"  They  had  scarcely  passed  our  two  spectators,  when  Oxford 
put  on  a  furious  spurt,  and  got  fully  even  with  the  leading  boat. 
There  was  a  louder  roar  than  ever  from  the  bank.  Cambridge 
spurted  desperately  in  turn,  and  stole  those  few  feet  back  ;  and  so 
they  went  fighting  every  inch  of  water.  Bang  I  A  cannon  on  the 
bank  sent  its  smoke  over  both  competitors;  it  dispersed  lu  a 


292  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

moment,  and  the  boats  were  seen  pulling  slowly  towards  the 
bridge,  Cambridge  with  four  oars,  Oxford  with  six,  as  if  that 
gun  had  winged  them  both. 

"  The  race  was  over. 

"  But  who  had  won  our  party  could  not  see,  and  must  wait  to 
learn."  i 

Contrast  with  this  the  well-kncwn  account  of  a  boat- 
race  in  "  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford."  It  is  too  long  to  quote 
entire;  but  a  short  extract  will  suffice  to  show  how  much 
is  lost  by  frequent  changes  in  point  of  view :  — 

"  Both  boats  make  a  beautiful  start,  and  again  as  before  in  the 
first  dash  the  St.  Ambrose  pace  tells,  and  they  gain  their  boat's 
length  before  first  winds  fail ;  then  they  settle  down  for  a  long, 
steady  effort.  Both  crews  are  rowing  comparatively  steady,  re- 
serving themselves  for  the  tug  of  war  up  above.  Thus  they  pass 
the  Gut,  and  so  those  two  treacherous  corners,  the  scene  of  count- 
less bumps,  into  the  wider  water  beyond,  up  under  the  wiUows. 

"Miller's  face  is  decidedly  hopeful;  he  shows'no  sign,  indeed, 
but  you  can  see  that  he  is  not  the  same  man  as  he  was  at  this 
place  in  the  last  race.  He  feels  that  to-day  the  boat  is  full  of 
life,  and  that  he  can  call  on  his  crew  with  hopes  of  an  answer. 
His  well-trained  eye  also  detects  that,  while  both  crews  are  at  full 
stretch,  his  own,  instead  of  losing,  as  it  did  on  the  last  night,  is 
now  gaining  inch  by  inch  on  Oriel.  The  gain  is  scarcely  percep- 
tible to  him  even ;  from  the  bank  it  is  quite  imperceptible ;  but 
there  it  is ;  he  is  surer  and  surer  of  it,  as  one  after  another  the 
willows  are  left  behind. 

"  And  now  comes  the  pinch.  The  Oriel  captain  is  beginning  to 
be  conscious  of  the  fact  which  has  been  dawning  on  Miller,  but 
will  not  acknowledge  it  to  himself,  and  as  his  coxswain  turns  the 
boat's  head  gently  across  the  stream,  and  makes  for  the  Berkshire 
side  and  the  goal,  now  full  in  view,  he  smiles  grimly  as  he  quickens 
his  stroke ;  he  will  shake  off  these  light-heeled  gentry  yet,  as  he 
did  before. 

"Miller  sees  the  move  in  a  moment,  and  signals  his  cantain, 
and  the  next  stroke  St.   Ambrose  has  quickened  also ;    and  now 

^  Charles  Reade ;  Hard  Cash,  chap.  i. 


NARRATION.  293 

there  is  no  mistake  about  it,  St.  Ambrose  is  creeping  up  slowly 
but  surely.  The  boat's  length  lessens  to  forty  feet,  thirty  feet ; 
surely  and  steadily  lessens.  But  the  race  is  not  lost  yet ;  thirty 
feet  is  a  short  space  enough  to  look  at  on  the  water,  but  a  good  bit 
to  pick  up  foot  by  foot  in  the  last  two  hundred  yards  of  a  desperate 
struggle.  They  are  over  under  the  Berkshire  side  now,  and  there 
stands  up  the  winning-post,  close  ahead,  all  but  won.  The  distance 
lessens  and  lessens  still,  but  the  Oriel  crew  stick  steadily  and  gal- 
lantly to  their  work,  and  will  fight  every  inch  of  distance  to  the 
last.  The  Orielites  on  the  bank,  who  are  rushing  along,  some, 
times  in  the  water,  sometimes  out,  hoarse,  furious,  madly  alter* 
nating  between  hope  and  despair,  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed 
of  a  man  in  the  crew.  Off  the  mouth  of  the  Cherwell  there  is  still 
twenty  feet  between  them.  Another  minute,  and  it  will  be  over 
one  way  or  another.  Every  man  in  both  crews  is  now  doing  his 
best,  and  no  mistake  :  tell  me  which  boat  holds  the  most  men  who 
can  do  better  than  their  best  at  a  pinch,  who  will  risk  a  broken 
blood-vessel,  and  I  will  tell  you  how  it  will  end." ' 

That  a  skilful  writer  may  change  his  point  of  view  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  make  it  easy  for  the  reader  to  follow 
him  is  shown  by  the  following  passage  from  Macaulay : 

"Mackay,  accompanied  by  one  trusty  servant,  spurred  bravely 
through  the  thickest  of  the  claymores  and  targets,  and  reached 
a  point  from  which  he  had  a  view  of  the  field.  His  whole 
army  had  disappeared,  with  the  exception  of  some  Borderers  whom 
Leven  had  kept  together,  and  of  Hastings's  regiment,  which  had 
poured  a  murderous  fire  into  the  Celtic  I'anks,  and  which  still  kept 
unbroken  order.  All  the  men  that  could  be  collected  were  only  a 
few  hundreds.  The  general  made  haste  to  lead  them  across  the 
Garry,  and,  having  put  that  river  between  them  and  the  enemy, 
paused  for  a  moment  to  meditate  on  his  situation. 

"  He  could  hardly  understand  how  the  conquerors  could  be  so 
unwise  as  to  allow  him  even  that  moment  for  deliberation.  They 
mio^ht  with  ease  have  Ivilled  or  taken  all  who  were  with  him  before 
the  night  closed  in.  But  the  energy  of  the  Celtic  warriors  had 
spent  itself  in  one  furious  rush  and  one  short  struggle.     The  pass 

*  Thomas  Hughes :  Tom  Brown  at  Oxford,  part  i.  chap.  xiv. 


294  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

was  choked  by  the  twelve  hundred  beasts  of  burden  which  carried 
the  provisions  and  baggage  of  the  vanquished  army.  Such  a  booty 
was  irresistibly  tempting  to  men  who  were  impelled  to  war  quite 
as  much  by  the  desire  of  rapine  as  by  the  desire  of  glory.  It  is 
probable  that  few  even  of  the  chiefs  were  disposed  to  leave  so  rich 
a  prize  for  the  sake  of  King  James.  Dundee  himself  might  at 
that  moment  have  been  unable  to  persuade  his  followers  to  quit 
the  heaps  of  spoil,  and  to  complete  the  great  work  of  the  day; 
and  Dundee  was  no  more. 

"  At  the  beginning  of  the  action  he  had  taken  his  place  in  front 
of  his  little  band  of  cavalry.  He  bade  them  follow  him,  and  rode 
forward.  But  it  seemed  to  be  decreed  that,  on  that  day,  the  Low- 
land Scotch  should  in  both  armies  appear  to  disadvantage.  The 
horse  hesitated.  Dundee  turned  round,  stood  up  in  his  stirrups, 
and,  waving  his  hat,  invited  them  to  come  on.  As  he  lifted  his 
arm,  his  cuirass  rose,  and  exposed  the  lower  part  of  his  left  side. 
A  musket  ball  struck  him  ;  his  horse  sprang  forward  and  plunged 
into  a  cloud  of  smoke  and  dust,  whicli  hid  from  both  armies  the 
fall  of  the  victorious  general.  A  person  named  Johnstone  was 
near  him  and  caught  him  as  he  sank  down  from  the  saddle. 
*  How  goes  the  day  ?  '  said  Dundee.  '  Well  for  King  James,'  an- 
swered Johnstone  :  '  but  I  am  sorry  for  Your  Lordship.'  '  If  it  is 
well  for  him,'  answered  the  dying  man,  '  it  matters  the  less  for 
me.*  He  never  spoke  again  ;  but  when,  half  an  hour  later.  Lord 
Dunfermline  and  some  other  friends  came  to  the  spot,  they  thought 
that  they  could  still  discern  some  faint  remains  of  life.  The  body, 
wrapped  in  two  plaids,  was  carried  to  the  Castle  of  Blair."  ^ 

To  secure  method  in  movement,  a  writer  should  keep 
constantly  in   mind  the    central  idea  of  his  nairative; 
A  central      ahout  that  Central  idea  he  should  group  all 
"^'^*'  other  ideas   according  to  their  relative  value 

and  pertinence.  The  difficulty  of  applying  this  principle 
increases,  of  course,  with  the  amount  and  the  variety  of  a 
writer's  material.  It  is  greater  in  a  novel  that  repre- 
sents numerous  characters  in  varying  circumstances  than 
in  a  short  and  simple  story ;  it  is  greater  in  a  history 
1  Macaulay :  History  of  England,  vol.  iii.  chap.  xiii. 


NARRATION.  295 

that  deals  with  the  multiform  circumstances  of  modern 
life  than  in  one  that  recounts  the  Sicilian  Expedition 
or  a  crusade. 

In  biography,  it  is  comparatively  easy  to  fulfil  the  re- 
quirements of  method  in  movement  with  regard  both  to 
point  of  view  and  to  central  idea ;  for  a  biogra-  Method  in 
phy  concerns  itself  with  the  life  of  one  man.  *>'°s''^P^y' 
In  order  to  show  this  man's  inherited  traits  and  the  cir- 
cumstances surrounding  him  at  birth,  an  introduction  may 
be  necessary,  but  it  should  be  as  short  as  possible.  Once 
on  the  scene,  the  man  himself  should  be  kept  to  the  front ; 
the  narrative  should  move  forward  with  his  life,  and 
should  end  with  his  death.  Contemporary  persons,  inci- 
dents, and  opinions  should  be  mentioned  so  far,  and  so  far 
only,  as  they  influenced  his  life  and  character,  and  they 
should  be  introduced  in  such  a  way  as  to  show  that 
that  influence  was  the  cause  of  their  introduction.  These 
conditions  are  fulfilled  in  Mr.  Trevelvan's  "  Life  of  Ma- 
caulay."  In  sharp  contrast  with  this  is  Masson's  "  Life  of 
Milton,"  of  which  Lowell  says,  "  It  is  plain  .  .  .  that  Mr. 
Masson  himself  has  an  uneasy  consciousness  .  .  .  that 
Milton  ought  somehow  to  be  more  than  a  mere  incident 
of  his  own  biography."  ^ 

In  history,  and  especially  in  history  that  deals  with 
modern  times,  so  many  subjects  have  to  be  treated,  so 
many  details  have  to  be  given,  that  method  in  Method  in 
movement  is  not  easily  attained.  An  unskil-  ^'^*°''y- 
ful  historian  runs  from  one  point  of  view  to  another,  and 
he  has  no  central  idea.  Having  no  sense  of  proportion,  he 
gives  as  much  space  to  unimportant  as  to  important  mat- 
ters. Having  no  eye  for  perspective,  he  fails  to  show  the 
true  relations  between  events.     Even  when  his  narrative 

1  Lowell :  Literary  Essays ;  Miltop. 


296  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

is  historically  correct,  the  total  impression  is  false.  Even 
when  his  narrative  moves,  it  moves  like  a  corkscrew  or  in 
a  circle.  A  skilful  historian,  on  the  other  hand,  never 
changes  his  point  of  view  without  necessity  or  without  in 
some  way  apprising  his  reader  of  the  change.  He  never 
loses  sight  of  the  main  idea,  and  he  groups  details  in  their 
true  relations  to  the  main  idea  and  to  each  other.  If  an 
introduction  is  necessary,  he  makes  it  just  long  enough 
to  give  a  clear  understanding  of  what  is  to  follow.  He 
begins  at  the  true  beginning,  and  moves  steadily  towards 
the  end. 

"  The  affairs  of  England  during  the  reigns  of  James  and  Wil- 
liam,"  writes  Professor  Minto,  "  were  considerably  involved,  and 
without  skilful  arrangement  a  history  of  that  period  could  hardly 
fail  to  be  confused.  Macaulay's  exhibition  of  the  movements  of 
different  parties,  the  different  aspects  of  things  in  the  three  parts 
of  the  kingdom,  the  complicated  relations  between  James  and 
William,  and  the  intrigues  of  different  individuals,  is  managed 
with  great  perspicuity. 

"  He  is  exemplary  in  keeping  prominent  the  main  action  and 
the  main  actor.  After  the  death  of  Charles,  our  interest  centres 
in  James.  We  are  eager  to  know  how  the  change  of  monarch 
was  received  in  London  and  through  the  country,  and  how  James 
stood  in  his  relations  with  France  and  Rome,  with  Scotland,  and 
with  the  English  clergy  and  the  Dissenters.  Macaulay  follows  the 
lead  of  this  natural  interest,  and  does  not  leave  James  until  he  is 
fairly  settled  on  the  throne.  James  once  established,  our  interest 
in  him  is  for  the  time  satisfied,  and  we  desire  to  know  the  pro- 
ceedings of  his  baffled  opponents.  Accordingly,  the  historian 
transports  us  to  the  asylum  of  the  Whig  refugees  on  the  Con- 
tinent, describes  them,  and  keeps  their  machinations  in  Holland, 
and  their  successive  invasions  of  Britain,  prominent  on  the  stage 
until  the  final  collapse  of  their  designs  and  the  execution  of  their 
leaders.  That  chapter  of  the  History  ends  with  an  account  of  the 
cruelties  perpetrated  on  the  aiders  and  abettors  of  the  western  in- 
surrection under  Monmouth.  Then  the  scene  changes  to  Ireland, 
the  next  interesting  theatre  of  events.      And  so  on  :  there  were 


NARRATION.  297 

various  critical  junctures  in  the  history  of  the  Government,  and 
the  events  leading  to  each  are  traced  separately. 

"  The  arrangement  is  so  easy  and  natural,  that  one  almost  won- 
ders to  see  it  alleged  as  a  merit.     But  when  we  compare  it  with 
Hume's  arrangement  of  the  events  of  the  same  period,  we  see  that 
even  a  historian  of  eminence  may  pursue  a  less  luminous  method. 
Hume  relates,  first,  all  that  in  his  time  was  known  of  James's  re- 
lations  with  France;  then  the  various  particulars  of  his  adminis- 
tration in  England,  down  to  the  insurrection  of  Monmouth  ;  then 
the  state  of  affairs  iu  Scotland,  including  Argyle's  invasion  and 
the  conduct  of  the  Parliament.     He  goes  upon  the  plan  of  taking 
up  events  in  local  departments,  violating  both  the  order  of  time 
and  the  order  of  dependence.     Macaulay  makes  the  government 
of  James  the  connecting  rod  or  trunk,  taking  uji,  one  after  another, 
the  difficulties  that  successively  besiege  it,  and,  when  necessary, 
stepping  back  to  trace  the  particular  difficulty  on  hand  to  its 
original,  without  regard  to  locality.      By  grappling  thus  boldly 
with  the   complicacy   of   events,  he   renders    his   narrative  more 
continuous,  and  avoids  the  error  of  making  a  wide  separation 
between  events  that  were  closely  connected  or  interdependent.    He 
does  not,  like  Hume,  give  the  descent  of  Monmouth  in  one  sec- 
tion, and  the  descent  of  Argyle  upon  Scotland,  an  event  prior  in 
point  of  time,  in  another  and  subsequent  section.     James,  after 
his  accession,  put  off  the  meeting  of  the  English  Parliament  till 
the  more  obsequious  Parliament  of  Scotland  should  set  a  good 
example.     Macaulay  tells  us  at  once  James's  motive  for  delaying 
the  meeting  of  the  English  Parliament,  and  details  what  happened 
in  Scotland  during  the  fortnight  of  delay.     In  Hume's  History, 
we  do   not   hear  of  the  proceedings  instituted  by  the  Scottish 
Parliament   till   after  the   execution   of    Argyle,  by  which   time 
we  are  interested  in  another  chain  of  events,  and  do  not  catch 
the  influence  of  the  proceedings  in  Scotland  upon  the  proceed- 
ings in  England."  ^ 

In   fiction,  the  requirements  of  method  in  movement 
should  always  be  observed.     A  story  should  Method  in 
begin  to  move  as  soon  as  possible ;  it  should  ^^*'°"- 
at   the   outset   introduce   the    principal    characters   and 

1  William  Minto  :  A  Manual  of  English  Prose  Literature,  part  i.  chap.  ii. 

IS* 


298  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

make  them  say  something  or  do  something  to  excite 
interest.  Once  started,  it  should  keep  in  motion,  never 
stagnating,  never  eddying,  but  flowing  on  like  a  river 
which  takes  to  itself  all  tributary  streams  and  thus 
grows  broader  and  deeper. 

A  good  example  of  method  in  story-telling  is  Eichard- 
son's  "  Clarissa  Harlowe,"  notwithstanding  its  length  and 
the  fact  that  it  is  composed  entirely  of  letters.  In  the 
first  letter.  Miss  Howe  asks  Clarissa  to  give  a  full  account 
of  her  acquaintance  with  Lovelace  from  the  beginning. 
From  this  point  the  story,  though  it  moves  slowly,  moves 
as  directly  as  the  epistolary  plan  and  the  abundance  of 
detail  admit,  and  it  ends  with  the  death  of  Lovelace.  There 
is,  to  be  sure,  a  "  conclusion,"  in  which  the  subsequent 
history  of  the  minor  characters  is  related ;  but  this  is  in 
form,  as  in  fact,  a  postscript. 

Miss  Austen's  method  is  generally  good.  Her  "Emma," 
for  example,  introduces  the  heroine  in  the  very  first  par- 
agraph, concerns  itself  altogether  with  her  fortunes  and 
her  match-makings,  and  ends  with  her  marriage. 

George  Eliot's  "  Silas  Marner "  arouses  interest  at  the 
beginning,  first  in  the  class  to  which  Silas  belongs,  and 
secondly  in  Silas  himself.  Throughout  the  book  Silas 
and  his  adopted  daughter  Eppie  form  the  centre  of  in- 
terest, and  Eppie's  marriage  ends  the  story. 

The  method  of  Hawthorne's  romances  is  excellent 
throughout.  "The  Scarlet  Letter,"  for  example,  begins 
by  introducing  the  tragedy  of  Hester,  and  it  keeps  the 
tragedy  before  the  reader  from  first  to  last. 

Of  living  authors,^  no  one  excels  Mr.  Stevenson  in  the 
art  of  narration.  His  "  Kidnapped  "  and  "  David  Balfour  " 
are  especially  worthy  of  study. 

1  This  was  in  type  a  month  before  Stevenson's  death. 


NARRATION.  299 

Scott's  method  is  good  in  the  main,  after  he  is  fairly 
started ;  but  often  he  is  provokingly  long  in  getting  under 
way,  —  as  in  "  Ivanhoe,"  for  example,  which  begins  with 
four  pages  of  history  followed  by  two  pages  of  description. 
For  his  slowness  in  beginning,  Scott  had,  however,  what 
he  deemed  a  good  reason :  he  was  so  much  disgusted  by 
the  practice  of  novelists  who  began  with  the  most  inter- 
esting incident  and  made  the  whole  story  an  anti-climax, 
that  he  intentionally  went  to  the  other  extreme. 

Thackeray's  method  is  uneven.  "  The  Virginians  * 
begins  better  than  it  ends  ;  "  Henry  Esmond  "  ends  better 
than  it  begins.  In  "  The  Newcomes,"  the  culminating 
point  of  interest  is  the  death  of  Colonel  Newcome.  The 
paragraph  which  describes  that  death  —  the  paragraph 
which  brought  tears  to  Thackeray's  eyes  when  he  wrote 
it  —  should  have  ended  the  book. 

Dickens's  method  is  weak  in  two  particulars :  most  of 
his  stories  go  backward  and  forward,  and  most  end  badly. 
The  real  end  of  "  Pickwick  "  is  the  breakfast  party  ;  of 
"  David  Copperfield,"  Mr.  Peggotty's  visit  to  Ham's  grave  ; 
of  "  Nicholas  Nickleby,"  the  breaking  up  of  Dotheboys 
Hall;  of  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  the  death  of  Sidney 
Carton  :  but  each  of  these  stories  has  a  postscript  after 
the  real  end. 

Without  method  no  narrative  can  be  perfect ;  but  per- 
fect method  alone  does  not  make  perfect,  or  even  good, 
narrative.  The  mechanism  of  an  optical  instrument  may 
be  more  accurate  than  that  of  the  human  eye,  but  the 
life  behind  the  eye  is  the  thing  of  value :  an  author's 
method  may  be  perfect,  and  yet  his  story  may  fail  for 
want  of  life-giving  power.  Method  may  be,  if  not  learned, 
at  least  improved  by  practice ;  but  the  higher  power, 
vision,  is  the  gift  of  nature. 


CHAPTER   in. 

EXPOSITION. 

Exposition  may  be  briefly  defined  as  explanation.  It 
does  not  address  the  imagination,  the  feelings,  or  the 
Exposition  will.  It  addresses  tlie  understanding  exclu- 
defined.  sively,  and  it  may  deal  with  any  subject-matter 

with  which  the  understanding  has  to  do.  In  the  fact 
that  exposition  does  not  appeal  to  the  emotions  lies  the 
essential  difference  between  exposition  and  description  or 
narration.  The  writer  of  a  description  or  of  a  narrative 
may,  without  injury  to  his  readers,  look  at  his  subject 
through  the  medium  of  his  own  personality  and  color  it 
with  his  individual  feelings:  the  writer  of  an  exposition 
should,  as  far  as  possible,  keep  his  individuality  out  of 
his  work  and  present  his  subject  to  his  readers  exactly 
as  it  is. 

Theoretically,  exposition  treats  the  matter  in  hand  with 
absolute  impartiality,  setting  forth  the  pure  truth,  —  the 
truth  unalloyed  by  prejudice,  pride  of  opinion,  exagger- 
ation of  rhetoric,  or  glamour  of  sentiment.  Except  in 
works  of  a  technical  character,  exposition  in  this  strict 
sense  is  comparatively  rare  ;  but  it  is  now  and  then  found 
even  in  political  writings. 

"  He  [Mr.  Robert  Giffen]  belongs  to  a  limited  class  from  whom 
the  community  receive  an  inestimable  benefit,  —  namely,  white 
light  upon  every  subject  upon  which  they  require  information. 
He  will  use  months  in  ascertaining  for  them  the  truth,  say,  as  to  an 


EXPOSITION.  301 

Irish  Land  question,  and  in  a  report  will  never  betray  the  political 
opiiiion  to  which  his  researches  have  led  liini.  We  have  watched 
Mr.  Giffen's  work  for  thirty  years,  have  never  known  it  less  than 
complete,  and  do  not  know  now,  with  any  approach  to  accuracy, 
what  his  political  opinions  are.  That  is  the  true  attitude  of  a 
devoted  servant  of  the  whole  nation."  ^ 

Exposition  is  sometimes  made  to  include  personal  es-> 
says,  like  many  of  those  of  Montaigne  or  of  Lamb ;  but 
such  essays,  though  they  may  be  expository  here  and 
there,  as  they  may  now  and  then  fall  into  description 
or  narration,  address,  in  the  main,  not  the  understanding, 
but  the  sympathies  and  the  imagination.  For  the  most 
part,  they  convey  information  so  far  only  as  they  reveal 
tlie  personality  of  the  author;  and  this  they  do,  not 
through  the  medium  of  formal  composition,  but  after 
the  manner  of  an  intimate  friend  who  takes  us  into  his 
inner  life.  To  class  such  essays  with  expository  writings 
is  to  miss  what  constitutes  their  real  charm,  —  the  per- 
sonal quality,  the  quality  that  makes  Montaigne,  or  Lamb, 
or  Emerson  sici  generis,  a  class  by  himself. 

The  function  of  exposition  is  to  simplify  the  complex 
or  the  abstruse,  to  make  the  obscure  clear,  the  con- 
fused distinct,  —  to  help  the  reader,  in  short,  The  function 
thoroughly  to  understand  the  subject  before  °^  ^^p<^^*'°"- 
him.  The  man  of  science  is  expounding  when  he  sets 
forth  the  results  of  observation,  or  of  retiection  on  observed 
facts ;  the  teacher,  when  he  unravels  knotty  questions 
or  clears  up  doubtful  points  ;  the  preacher,  when  he  un- 
folds the  meaning  of  his  text ;  the  lawyer,  when  he  eluci- 
dates the  principles  on  which  his  argument  is  to  rest ;  the 
physician,  when  he  makes  clear  the  pecularities  of  a  case 
in  Ms  practice  ;  the  jouMialist,  when  he  gives  the  bearings 

1  The  [Loudon]  Spectator,  Xov.  24,  1894,  p.  715. 


302  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

of  a  piece  of  news ;  the  critic,  when  he  analyzes  a  book 
of  essays  or  a  play ;  the  man  of  affairs,  when  he  instructs 
his  correspondent  concerning  the  advantages  and  the  dis- 
advantages of  an  investment:  any  one  is  expounding 
when  he  explains  anything  said  or  done. 

The  simplest  form  of  exposition  is  the  definition  of  a 
term.  Many  so-called  definitions  in  dictionaries  are  not 
Definition, the  dcHnitlons  at  all;   for   they  are   nothing  but 

simplest  form 

of  exposition,  morc  or  Icss  successful  attempts  to  translate 
words  into  their  exact  or  approximate  synonyms.  A  real 
definition  is  an  explanation  expressed  in  language  simpler 
than  the  term  defined,  or  in  words  that  have  already  been 
defined ;  the  simpler  the  term  to  be  defined,  the  greater 
the  difficulty  in  making  a  satisfactory  definition.  In 
every  branch  of  science  are  many  terms  that  must  be 
explained  before  the  subject  to  which  they  belong  can  be 
understood,  and  of  these  terms  an  exposition  is  the  only 
useful  definition.  Such  a  definition  is  given  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage  from  Dr.  Asa  Gray's  "  Botanical  Text- 
Book  " :  — 

The  Embryo. 

"The  pmbryo  is  the  initial  plant,  originated  in  the  seed.  Tn 
some  seeds  it  is  so  simple  and  rudimentary  as  to  have  no  visible 
distinction  of  parts  :  in  others,  these  parts  may  have  assumed 
forms  -which  disguise  their  proper  character.  But  every  well- 
developed  embryo  essentially  consists  of  a  nascent  axis,  or  stem, 
bearing  at  one  end  a  nascent  leaf  or  leaves,  or  what  answers  to 
these,  while  from  the  other  and  naked  end  a  root  is  normally  to  be 
produced.  This  stem  is  the  priiriitive  internode  of  the  plant :  its 
leaf  or  pair  of  leaves  is  that  of  the  first  node.  The  plant  therefore 
begins  as  a  single  phytomer.  Some  embryos  are  no  more  than 
this,  even  when  they  have  completed  their  proper  germination : 
others  have  taken  a  further  development  in  the  seed  itself,  and 
exhibit  the  rudiments  of  one  or  more  following  phytoraera."* 

*  Asa  Gray :  Botanical  Text-Book,  vol.  i.  chap.  iL 


EXPOSITION.  303 

An  exposition  like  that  just  cited  resembles  a  scientific 
description  in  that  it  aims  at  conveying  information  by 
means  of  analysis.  There  is,  however,  a  slight  difference 
between  the  two.  The  account  of  the  barn-swallow, 
quoted  as  an  example  of  scientific  description,^  is  de- 
scriptive so  far  as  it  deals  with  specific  barn-swallowS; 
expository  so  far  as  it  deals  with  the  abstract  idea,  or 
general  notion,  designated  by  the  term  "  barn-swallow ; " 
the  passage  from  Dr.  Gray  is  altogether  expository,  for 
it  deals  with  nothing  but  the  general  notion  designated 
by  the  term  "embryo."  The  fact  that  it  is  possible 
to  illustrate  the  description  of  the  barn-swallow  by  a 
representation  of  a  real  bird  and  not  possible  to  illus- 
trate the  exposition  of  the  embryo  by  a  representation  of 
the  embryo  in  general,  shows  the  distinction  between  the 
two.  Whenever  description  ceases  to  represent  individual 
persons  or  things,  it  ceases  to  be  description  and  partakes 
of  the  nature  of  exposition. 

Other  examples  of  definitions  that  are  expositions  are 
given  in  the  following  passages :  — 

Work  and  Play. 

"Yon  will  discover,  at  once,  that  work  and  play,  taken  as  modes 
of  mere  outward,  muscular  activity,  cannot  be  distinguislied. 
There  is  motion  in  both,  there  is  an  exercise  of  force  in  both, 
both  are  under  the  will  as  acting  on  the  muscular  system;  so  that, 
taken  outwardly,  they  both  fall  into  the  same  category.  Indeed, 
they  cannot  be  discriminated  till  we  pass  within,  to  view  them 
metaphysically,  considering  their  springs  of  action,  their  impulse, 
aim,  and  object. 

"  Here  the  distinction  becomes  evidpnt  at  once ;  namely,  that 
work  is  activity  jnr  an  end ;  play,  activity  a.s  an  end.  One 
prepares  the  fund  or  resources  of  enjoyment,  the  other  is  enjoy- 
ment itself.     Thus,  when  a  man  goes  into  agriculture,  trade,  or 

1  See  pages  252,  253. 


304  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  shop,  he  consents  to  undergo  a  certain  expenditure  of  care  and 
labor,  which  is  the  only  form  of  painstaking  rightly  named,  in 
order  to  obtain  some  ulterior  good  which  is  to  be  his  reward.  But 
when  the  child  goes  to  his  play,  it  is  no  painstaking,  no  means  to 
an  end ;  it  is  itself  rather  both  end  and  joy.  Accordingly,  it  is  a 
part  of  the  distinction  I  state,  that  work  suffers  a  feeling  of  aver- 
sion, and  play  excludes  aversion.  For  the  moment  any  play  be- 
comes wearisome  or  distasteful,  then  it  is  work ;  an  activity  that 
is  kept  up,  not  as  being  its  own  joy,  but  for  some  idterior  end,  or 
under  some  kind  of  constraint."  ^ 

Preaching. 

"What,  then,  is  preaching,  of  which  we  are  to  speak?    It  is  not 
hard  to  find  a  definition.      Preaching  is  the  communication  of 
truth  by  man  to  men.     It  has  in  it  two  essential  elements,  truth 
and  personality.     Neither  of  those  can  it  spare  and  still  be  preach- 
ing.    The  truest  truth,  the  most  authoritative  statement  of  God's 
will,  communicated  in  any  other  way  than  through  the  personality 
of  brother  man  to  men,  is  not  preached  truth.     Suppose  it  written 
on  the  sky,  suppose  it  embodied  in  a  book  which  has  been  so  long 
held  in  reverence  as  the  direct  utterance  of  God  that  the  vivid  per- 
sonality of  the  men  who  wrote  its  pages  has  well-nigh  faded  out  of 
it;  in  neither  of  these  cases  is  there  any  preaching.     And  on  the 
other  hand,  if  men  speak  to  other  men  that  which  they  do  not 
claim  for  truth,  if  they  use  their  powers  of  persuasion  or  of  enter- 
tainment to  make  other  men  listen  to  their  speculations,  or  do 
their  will,  or  applaud  their  cleverness,  that  is  not  preaching  either. 
The  first  lacks  personality.     The  second  lacks  truth.     And  preach- 
ing is  the  bringing  of  truth  through  personality.     It  must  have 
both  elements.     It  is  in  the  different  proportion  in  which  the  two 
are  mingled  that  the  difference  between  two  great  classes  of  ser- 
mons and  preaching  lies.     It  is  in  the  defect  of  one  or  the  other 
element  that  every  sermon  and  preacher  falls  short  of  the  perfect 
standard.     It  is  in  the  absence  of  one  or  the  other  element  that  a 
discourse  ceases  to  be  a  sermon,  and  a  man  ceases  to  be  a  preacher 
altogether."  » 

1  Horace  Bnslinell :  "Work  and  Play. 

2  Phillips  Brooks:    Lectures  on  Preaching;    The  Two  Elements  in 
Preaching. 


EXPOSITION.  305 

In  subjects  like  psychology  and  political  economy,  so 
much  depends  on  the  meanmg  attached  to  important 
terms  that  we  naturally  expect  to  find  in  the  best  writers 
on  these  subjects  definitions  that  are  models  of  exposi- 
tion. Such  are  the  following  passages  from  Taine  and 
John  Stuart  Mill:  — 

Vague  Images  and  Abstract  Ideas. 

"  Some  years  ago  I  saw  in  England,  in  Kew  Gardens,  for  the 
first  time,  araucarias,  and  I  walked  along  the  beds  looking  at  these 
strange  plants,  with  their  rigid  bark  and  compact,  short,  scaly 
leaves,  of  a  sombre  green,  whose  abrupt,  rough,  bristling  form  cut 
in  upon  the  fine  softly-lighted  turf  of  the  fresh  grass-plat.  If  I 
now  inquire  what  this  experience  has  left  in  me,  I  find,  first,  the 
sensible  representation  of  an  araucaria ;  in  fact,  I  have  been  able 
to  describe  almost  exactly  the  form  and  color  of  the  plant.  But 
there  is  a  difference  between  this  representation  and  the  former 
sensations,  of  which  it  is  the  present  echo.  The  internal  sem- 
blance, from  which  I  have  just  made  my  description,  is  vague,  and 
my  past  sensations  were  precise.  For,  assuredly,  each  of  the  arau- 
carias I  saw  then  excited  in  me  a  distinct  visual  sensation  ;  there 
are  no  two  absolutely  similar  plants  in  nature  ;  I  observed  perhaps 
twenty  or  thirty  araucarias ;  without  a  doubt  each  one  of  them 
differed  from  the  others  in  size,  in  girth,  by  the  more  or  less  obtuse 
angles  of  its  branches,  by  the  more  or  less  abrupt  jutting  out  of  its 
scales,  by  the  style  of  its  texture ;  consequently,  my  twenty  or  thirty 
visual  sensations  were  different.  But  no  one  of  these  sensations 
has  completely  survived  in  its  echo ;  the  twenty  or  thirty  revivals 
have  blunted  one  another ;  thus  upset  and  agglutinated  by  their 
resemblance  they  are  confounded  together,  and  my  present  repre- 
sentation is  their  residue  only.  This  is  the  product,  or  rather  the 
fragment,  which  is  deposited  in  us,  when  we  have  gone  through  a 
series  of  similar  facts  or  individuals.  Of  our  numerous  experiences 
there  remain  on  the  following  day  four  or  five  more  or  less  distinct 
recollections,  which,  obliterated  themselves,  leave  behind  in  us  a 
simple  colorless,  vague  representation,  into  which  enter  as  com- 
ponents various  reviving  ."sensations,  in  an  utterly  feeble,  incom- 
plete, and  abortiv-e  state.     Bui  this  represenkUipn  is  not  the  general 


306  KINDS  OF   COMPOSITION. 

and  abstract  idea.  It  is  hut  its  accompaniment,  and,  if  I  may  say  so, 
the  ore  from  which  it  is  extracted.  For  the  represeutation,  though 
badly  sketched,  is  a  sketch,  the  sensible  sketch  of  a  distinct  indivi- 
dual. .  .  .  But  my  abstract  idea  corresponds  to  the  whole  class ;  it 
differs,  then,  from  the  representation  of  an  individual.  Moreover, 
my  abstract  idea  is  perfectly  clear  and  determinate ;  now  that  1 
possess  it,  I  never  fail  to  recognize  an  araucaria  among  the  various 
plants  which  may  be  shown  me  ;  it  differs  then  from  the  confused 
and  floating  representation  I  have  of  some  particular  araucaria."  ^ 

Capital. 

"  It  has  been  seen  in  the  preceding  chapters  that  besides  the 
primary  and  universal  requisites  of  production,  labour  and  natural 
agents,  there  is  another  requisite  without  which  -no  productive 
operations  beyond  the  rude  and  scanty  beginnings  of  primitive 
industry,  are  possible :  namely,  a  stock,  previously  accumulated, 
of  the  products  of  former  labour.  This  accumulated  stock  of  the 
produce  of  labour  is  termed  Capital.  The  function  of  Capital  in 
production,  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  thoroughly  to  under- 
stand, since  a  number  of  the  erroneous  notions  with  which  our 
subject  is  invested,  originate  in  an  imperfect  and  confused  appre- 
hension on  this  point. 

"  Capital,  by  persons  wholly  unused  to  reflect  on  the  subject,  is 
supposed  to  be  synonymous  with  money.  To  expose  this  misap- 
prehension, would  be  to  repeat  what  has  been  said  in  the  introduc- 
tory chapter.  IMoney  is  no  more  synonymous  with  capital  than  it 
is  with  wealth.  Money  cannot  in  itself  perform  any  part  of  the 
office  of  capital,  since  it  can  afford  no  assistance  to  production. 
To  do  this,  it  must  be  exchanged  for  other  things ;  and  anything, 
which  is  susceptible  of  being  exchanged  for  other  things,  is  capable 
of  contributing  to  production  in  the  same  degree.  What  capital 
does  for  production,  is  to  afford  the  shelter,  protection,  tools  and 
materials  which  the  work  requires,  and  to  feed  and  otherwise 
maintain  the  labourers  during  the  process.  These  are  the  services 
which  present  labour  requires  from  past,  and  from  the  produce  of 
past,  labour.  Whatever  things  are  destined  for  this  use  —  des- 
tined to  supply  productive  labour  with  these  various  prerequisites 
—  are  Capital. 

1  H.  Taine  ■  On  TntfRigence,  vol.  ii.  p.  139.  Quoted  by  William 
James:  The  Principles  of  Psychology,  chap,  xviii. 


EXPOSITION.  307 

"  To  familiarize  ourselves  with  the  conception,  let  iis  consider 
what  is  done  with  the  capital  invested  in  any  of  the  branches  of 
business  which  compose  the  productive  industry  of  a  country.  A 
manufacturer,  for  example,  has  one  part  of  his  capital  in  the  form 
of  buildings,  fitted  and  destined  for  carrying  on  this  branch  of 
manufacture.  Another  part  he  has  in  the  form  of  machinery.  A 
third  consists,  if  he  be  a  spinner,  of  raw  cotton,  flax,  or  wool; 
if  a  weaver,  of  flaxen,  -^vooUen,  silk,  or  cotton,  thread;  and  the 
like,  according  to  the  nature  of  the  manufacture.  Food  and 
clothing  for  his  operatives,  it  is  not  the  custom  of  the  present 
age  that  he  should  directly  provide ;  and  few  capitalists,  except 
the  producers  of  food  or  clothing,  have  any  portion  worth  men- 
tioning of  their  capital  in  that  shape.  Instead  of  this,  each 
capitalist  has  money,  which  he  pays  to  his  workpeople,  and  so 
enables  them  to  supply  themselves  :  he  has  also  finished  goods 
in  his  warehouses,  by  the  sale  of  which  he  obtains  more  money,  to 
employ  in  the  same  manner,  as  well  as  to  replenish  his  stock  of 
materials,  to  keep  his  buildings  and  machinery  in  repair,  and  to 
replace  them  when  worn  out.  His  money  and  finished  goods, 
however,  are  not  wholly  capital,  for  he  does  not  wholly  devote 
them  to  these  purposes  :  he  employs  a  part  of  the  one,  and  of  the 
proceeds  of  the  other,  in  supplying  his  personal  consumption  and 
that  of  his  family,  or  in  hiring  grooms  or  valets,  or  maintaining 
hunters  and  hounds,  or  in  educating  his  children,  or  in  paying 
taxes,  or  in  charity.  What  then  is  his  capital  ?  Precisely  that 
part  of  his  possessions,  whatever  it  be,  which  he  designs  to  employ 
in  carrying  on  fresh  production.  It  is  of  no  consequence  that  a 
part,  or  even  the  whole  of  it,  is  in  a  form  in  which  it  cannot 
directly  supply  the  wants  of  labourers."  ^ 

Exposition  often  deals  with  general  notions,  as  in  the 
preceding  examples ;  but  to  say,  as  some  writers  do,  that 
it  deals  exclusively  with  the  general,  never  Exposition 
with  the  concrete,  is  to  go  altogether  too  far.  to  the  general. 
Mr.  Bryce's  book  on  "  The  American  Commonwealth  "  is 
as  truly  an  exposition  as  Guizot's  book  on  "  Kepresenta- 
tive  Government;"  Professor  Huxley's  paper  on  "A  Piece 

^  J.  S.  Mill  -.  rrinciples  of  Political  Economy,  book  i.  chap.  iv. 


308  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

of  Chalk  "  is  as  truly  an  exposition  as  Mr.  Tyndall's  book 
on  "Heat  as  a  Mode  of  Motion."  An  analysis  of  an 
individual  character  in  real  life  or  in  a  work  of  the  im- 
agination, a  criticism  of  a  book  or  of  a  piece  of  acting, 
may  be  and  usually  is  in  the  nature  of  an  exposition.  So 
is  a  scientific  paper  in  which  the  writer  takes  his  readers 
step  by  step  through  processes  of  investigation  which  he 
has  himself  gone  through.  So  is  the  following  passage, 
in  wliich  Daniel  Webster  uses  a  hypothetical  case  to 
show  the  consequences  of  carrying  his  opponent's  views 
into  action :  — 

The  Nullifying  Act. 

"  And  now,  Mr.  President,  let  me  run  the  honorable  gentleman's 
[Senator  Hayne's]  doctrine  a  little  into  its  practical  application. 
Let  us  look  at  his  probable  modus  operandi.  If  a  thing  can  be 
done,  an  ingenious  man  can  tell  how  it  is  to  be  done,  and  I  wish 
to  be  informed  hoio  this  State  interference  is  to  be  put  in  practice, 
without  violence,  bloodshed,  and  rebellion.  We  will  take  the  ex- 
isting case  of  the  tariff  law.  South  Carolina  is  said  to  have  made 
up  her  opinion  upon  it.  If  we  do  not  repeal  it  (as  we  probably 
shall  not),  she  will  then  apply  to  the  case  the  remedy  of  her  doc- 
trine. She  will,  we  must  suppose,  pass  a  law  of  her  legislature, 
declaring  the  several  acts  of  Congress,  usually  called  the  tariff 
laws,  null  and  void,  so  far  as  they  respect  South  Carolina,  or  the 
citizens  thereof.  So  far,  all  is  a  paper  transaction,  and  easy  enough. 
But  the  collector  at  Charleston  is  collecting  the  .duties  imposed  by 
these  tariff  laws.  He,  therefore,  must  be  stopped.  The  collector 
will  seize  the  goods  if  the  tariff  duties  are  not  paid.  The  State 
authorities  will  undertake  their  rescue,  the  marshal,  with  his  posse, 
will  come  to  the  collector's  aid,  and  here  the  contest  begins.  The 
militia  of  the  State  will  be  called  out  to  sustain  the  nullifying  act. 
They  will  march,  Sir,  under  a  very  gallant  leader ;  for  I  believe 
the  honorable  member  himself  commands  the  militia  of  that  part 
of  the  State.  He  will  raise  the  nullifying  act  on  his  standard, 
and  spread  it  out  as  his  banner  I  It  will  have  a  preamble,  setting 
forth,  that  the  tariff  laws  are  palpable,  deliberate,  and  dangerous 


EXPOSITION.  309 

violations  of  the  Constitution  !  He  will  proceed,  with  this  banner 
flying,  to  the  custom-house  in  Charleston, 

'AH  the  while. 
Sonorous  metal  blowing  martial  sounds.' 

Arrived  at  the  custom-house,  he  will  tell  the  collector  that  he  must 
coUect  no  more  duties  under  any  of  the  tariff  laws.  This  he  will 
be  somewhat  puzzled  to  say,  by  the  way,  with  a  grave  countenance, 
considering  what  hand  South  Carolina  herself  had  iu  that  of  1816. 
But,  Sir,  the  collector  would  not,  probably,  desist,  at  his  bidding. 
He  would  show  him  the  law  of  Congress,  the  treasury  instruction, 
and  his  own  oath  of  office.  He  would  say,  he  should  perform  his 
duty,  come  what  come  might. 

"  Here  would  ensue  a  pause  ;  for  they  say  that  a  certain  stillness 
precedes  the  tempest.  The  trumpeter  would  hold  his  breath  awhile, 
and  before  all  this  military  array  should  fall  on  the  custom-house, 
collector,  clerks,  and  all.  it  is  very  probable  some  of  those  compos- 
ing it  would  request  of  their  gallant  commander-in-chief  to  be  in- 
formed a  little  upon  the  point  of  law  ;  for  they  have,  doubtless,  a 
just  respect  for  his  opinions  as  a  lawyer,  as  well  as  for  his  bravery 
as  a  soldier.  They  know  he  has  read  Blackstone  and  the  Consti- 
tution, as  well  as  Turenne  and  Yauban.  They  would  ask  him, 
therefore,  something  concerning  their  rights  in  this  matter.  They 
would  inquire,  w^hether  it  was  not  somewhat  dangerous  to  resist  a 
law  of  the  United  States.  What  would  be  the  nature  of  their 
offence,  they  would  wish  to  learn,  if  they,  by  military  force  and 
array,  resisted  the  execution  in  Carolina  of  a  law  of  the  United 
States,  and  it  shoidd  turn  out,  after  all,  that  the  law  teas  constitu- 
tinnnl  ?  He  would  answer,  of  course,  Treason.  No  lawyer  could 
give  any  other  answer.  John  Fries,  he  would  tell  them,  had  learned 
that,  some  years  ago.  How,  then,  they  would  ask,  do  you  propose 
to  defend  us  ?  We  are  not  afraid  of  bullets,  but  treason  has  a  way 
of  taking  people  off  that  we  do  not  much  relish.  How  do  you  pro- 
pose to  defend  us  ?  '  look  at  my  floating  banner,'  he  would  reply ; 
« see  there  the  millifji'wg  law ! '  Ts  it  your  opinion,  gallant  com- 
mander, they  would  then  say,  that,  if  we  should  be  indicted  for 
treason,  tliat  same  floating  banner  of  yours  would  make  a  good 
plea  in  bar?  'South  Carolina  is  a  sovereign  State,'  he  would 
reply.  That  is  true  ;  but  would  the  judge  admit  our  plea  V  '  These 
tariff  laws,'   he    would    repeat,   '  are    unconstitutional,   palpably, 


310  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

deliberately,  dangerously.'  That  may  all  be  so ;  but  if  the  tribunal 
should  not  happen  to  be  of  that  opinion,  shall  we  swing  for  it  ? 
We  are  ready  to  die  for  our  country,  but  it  is  rather  an  awkward 
business,  this  dying  without  touching  the  ground  !  After  all,  that 
is  a  sort  of  hemp  tax  worse  than  any  part  of  the  tariff.  Mr.  Presi- 
dent, the  honorable  gentleman  would  be  in  a  dilemma,  like  that  of 
another  great  general.  He  would  have  a  knot  before  him  which 
he  could  not  untie.  He  must  cut  it  with  his  sword.  He  must  say 
to  his  followers,  '  Defend  yourselves  with  your  bayonets ; '  and  this 
is  war,  —  civil  war."  i 

Nothing  could  better  show  the  exact  nature  of  Mr.  Hayne's 
proposition  to  nullify  the  laws  of  the  United  States  peaceably  than 
this  exposition  of  the  practical  effects  of  nullification. 

Since  the  aim  of  all  expository  writing  is  to  enable  the 
reader  to  understand  the  subject  expounded,  the  para- 
ciearnessthe  Hiouut  quality  iu  all  such  Writing  should  be 
first  requisite,  cleamcss.  "  Au  obscure  explanation  is,"  as 
Dr;  Phelps  says,  "  a  self-contradiction."  ^  To  secure  clear- 
ness in  an  exposition  as  a  whole,  it  is  necessary  to  choose 
a  subject  which  can  be  adequately  treated  -within  the  pre- 
scribed limits,  to  frame  the  title  in  words  that  express 
or  at  least  suggest  the  exact  subject,  and  to  make  (either 
on  paper  or  iu  the  mind)  a  general  plan  of  the  whole. 
If  all  this  is  done  at  the  outset,  the  foundations  are  laid 
for  a  successful  piece  of  work ;  if  it  is  not  done,  the 
chances  are  that  even  valuable  materials  will  come  to 
naught.  To  secure  clearness  in  detail,  it  is  necessary 
to  present  each  part  distinctly.  To  this  end  precision 
in  the  use  of  lancjuage  should  be  studied:  terms  that  are 
obscure  or  ambiguous  should  be  deffned,^  the  meaning 
of  every  sentence  susceptible  of  more  than  one  construc- 

1  Daniel  Webster:  Second  Speech  on  Foot's  Resolution,  Jan.  26,  1830. 

2  Austin  Phelps  :  The  Theory  of  Preaching,  lect.  xii. 
8  See  page  95. 


EXPOSITION.  311 

tion  should  be  fixed,  and  the  relation  between  sentence 
and  sentence  should  be  made  perfectly  plain. 

The  following  passage  is  taken  from  a  writer  whose  ex- 
positions of  abstruse  questions  are  unusually  clear:  — 

The  Sense  ix  which  the  Laws  of  Nature  are  Exact. 

"I  suppose  there  is  hardly  a  physical  student  (unless  he  has 
specially  considered  the  matter)  who  would  not  at  once  assent  to 
the  statement  I  have  just  made ;  that  if  we  knew  all  about  it, 
Nature  would  be  found  universally  subject  to  exact  numerical  laws. 
But  let  us  just  consider  for  another  moment  what  this  means. 

"  The  word  '  exact '  has  a  practical  and  a  theoretical  meaning. 
When  a  grocer  weighs  you  out  a  certain  quantity  of  sugar  very 
carefully,  and  says  it  is  exactly  a  pound,  he  means  that  the  differ- 
ence between  the  mass  of  the  sugar  and  that  of  the  pound  weight 
he  employs  is  too  small  to  be  detected  by  his  scales.  If  a  chemist 
had  made  a  special  investigation,  wishing  to  be  as  accurate  as  he 
could,  and  told  you  this  was  exactly  a  pound  of  sugar,  he  would 
mean  that  the  mass  of  the  sugar  differed  from  that  of  a  certain 
standard  piece  of  platinum  by  a  quantity  too  small  to  be  detected 
by  his  means  of  weighing,  which  are  a  thousandfold  more  accurate 
than  the  grocer's.  But  what  would  a  mathematician  mean,  if  he 
made  the  same  statement  ?  He  would  mean  this :  Suppose  the 
mass  of  the  standard  pound  to  be  represented  by  a  length,  say  a 
foot,  measured  on  a  certain  line ;  so  that  half  a  pound  would  be 
represented  by  six  inches,  and  so  on.  And  let  the  difference  be- 
tween the  mass  of  the  sugar  and  that  of  the  standard  pound  be 
drawn  upon  the  same  line  to  the  same  scale.  Then,  if  that  differ- 
ence were  magnified  an  infinite  number  of  times,  it  would  still  be 
invisible.  This  is  the  theoretical  meaning  of  exactness  ;  the  prac- 
tical meaning  is  only  very  close  approximation  ;  how  close,  depends 
upon  the  circumstances.  The  knowledge  then  of  an  exact  law  in 
the  theoretical  sense  would  be  equivalent  to  an  infinite  observation. 
I  do  not  say  that  such  knowledge  is  impossible  to  man  ;  but  I  do 
say  that  it  would  be  absolutely  different  in  kind  from  any  knowl- 
edge that  we  possess  at  present."  * 

^  "William  Kingdon  Clifford:  Lectures  and  Essays;  On  the  Aims  and 
Instruments  of  Scientific  Thought. 


31?  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

In  exposition  more  than  in  any  otner  species  of  com- 
position a  writer  should  avoid  excessive  conciseuess.  He 
Clearness  should  omit  nothing  that  is  necessary  to  a  full 
j-udUo'!i3''?ep-  explanation  of  the  subject;  for  an  exposition 
etitiou.  ^^^^  ^g  clear  as  far  as  it  goes  may  fail  because 

it  is  not  adequate.  In  order  to  make  an  exposition  ade- 
quate, a  writer  should  dwell  on  the  most  difficult  questions, 
presenting  them,  if  necessary,  in  different  lights  and  from 
different  points  of  view;  and  he  should  not  hesitate  to 
repeat  himself  whenever  repetition  is  desirable,  either  for 
the  sake  of  presenting  a  novel  thought  in  more  ways  than 
one,  or  for  the  sake  of  summing  up  each  part  or  the 
whole  of  a  complicated  essay.  The  difference  between 
judicious  and  injudicious  repetition  is  not  so  much  in 
the  amount  of  repetition  as  in  the  selection  of  the  place 
for  it,  and  in  the  skill  or  the  want  of  skill  with  which 
it  is  managed. 

Of  judicious  repetition  in  expository  waiting  Burke  was 
a  master.^  So  was  Cardinal  Newman,  as  the  following 
passage  will  show :  — 

True  Education. 

"  Nor  indeed  am  T  supposing  that  there  is  any  great  danger,  at 
least  in  this  day,  of  over-education;  the  danger  is  on  the  other 
side.  I  will  tell  you,  Gentlemen,  what  has  been  the  practical  error 
of  the  last  twenty  years,  —  not  to  load  the  memory  of  the  student 
with  a  mass  of  undigested  knowledge,  but  to  force  upon  him  so 
much  that  he  has  rejected  all.  It  has  been  the  error  of  distracting 
and  enfeebling  the  mind  by  an  unmeaning  profusion  of  subjects ; 
of  implying  that  a  smattering  in  a  dozen  branches  of  study  is  not 
shallowness,  which  it  really  is,  but  enlargement,  which  it  is  not ; 
of  considering  an  acquaintance  with  the  learned  names  of  things 
and  persons,  and  the  possession  of  clever  duodecimos,  and  attend- 
ance on  eloquent  lectures,  and  membership  with  scientific  institu- 
tions, and  the  sight  of  the  experiments  of  a  platform  and  the 

^  See  pages  150,  151. 


EXPOSITION.  313 

specimens  of  a  museum,  that  all  this  was  not  dissipation  of  mind, 
but  progress.  All  things  now  are  to  be  learned  at  once,  not  first 
one  thing,  then  another,  not  one  well,  but  many  badly.  Learning 
is  to  be  without  exertion,  without  attention,  without  toU ;  without 
grounding,  without  advance,  without  finishing.  Tliere  is  to  be 
nothing  individual  in  it ;  and  this,  forsooth,  is  the  wonder  of  the 
age.  What  the  steam  engine  does  with  matter,  the  printing  press 
is  to  do  with  mind ;  it  is  to  act  mechanically,  and  the  population 
is  to  be  passively,  almost  unconsciously  enlightened,  by  the  mere 
multiplication  and  dissemination  of  volumes.  Whether  it  be  the 
school  boy,  or  the  school  girl,  or  the  youth  at  college,  or  the  me- 
chanic in  the  town,  or  the  politician  in  the  senate,  all  have  been 
the  victims  in  oae  way  or  other  of  this  most  preposterous  and  per- 
nicious of  delusions.  .  .  . 

..."  A  thorough  knowledge  of  one  science  and  a  superficial  ac- 
quaintance with  many,  are  not  the  same  thing  ;  a  smattering  of  a 
hundred  things  or  a  memory  for  detail,  is  not  a  philosophical  or 
comprehensive  view.  Recreations  are  not  education  ;  accomplish- 
ments are  not  education.  Do  not  say,  the  people  must  be  edu- 
cated, when,  after  all,  you  only  mean,  amused,  refreshed,  soothed,  put 
into  good  spirits  and  good  humour,  or  kept  from  vicious  excesses. 
I  do  not  say  that  such  amusements,  such  occupations  of  mind,  are 
not  a  great  gain ;  but  they  are  not  education.  You  may  as  well 
call  drawing  and  fencing  education,  as  a  general  knowledge  of 
botany  or  conchology.  Stuffing  birds  or  playing  stringed  instru- 
ments is  an  elegant  pastime,  and  a  resource  to  the  idle,  but  it  is 
not  education ;  it  does  not  form  or  cultivate  the  intellect.  Educa- 
tion is  a  high  word  ;  it  is  the  preparation  for  knowledge,  and  it  is 
the  imparting  of  knowledge  in  proportion  to  that  preparation.  We 
require  intellectual  eyes  to  know  withal,  as  bodily  eyes  for  sight. 
We  need  both  objects  and  organs  intellectual ;  we  cannot  gain 
them  without  setting  about  it ;  we  cannot  gain  them  in  our  sleep, 
or  by  hap-hazard.  The  best  telescope  does  not  dispense  with  eyes; 
the  printing  press  or  the  lecture  room  will  assist  us  greatly,  but  we 
must  be  true  to  ourselves,  we  must  be  parties  in  the  work.  A 
University  is,  according  to  the  usual  designation,  an  Alma  Mater, 
knowing  her  children  one  by  one,  not  a  foundry  or  a  mint,  or  a 
treadmill."! 

1  Cardinal  Xewman  :  The  Idea  of  a  University  ;  University  Teaching, 
Knowledge  viewed  in  Relation  to  Learning. 


314  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

In  this  passage  there  is  only  one  leading  thought;  but  that 
thought  is  presented  in  so  many  distinct  ways,  with  such  force 
of  language,  such  fertility  of  illustration,  that  the  reader,  far  from 
being  bored,  gains  something  by  each  new  presentation. 

To  secure  clearness  in  exposition  a  writer  should  pay 

special  attention  to  orderly  arrangement.     "  Good  arrange- 

ciearness      mcnt  is  at  least  one  half  of  sound  exposition. 

secured  by  ■,         •         !•  •       i  t  •         u       t 

method.  Order  is  often  equivalent  to  explanation.  in 
the  matter  of  arrangement  no  one  method  can  be  pre- 
scribed as  the  best  in  all  cases ;  but  in  each  case  one 
method  should  be  pursued  throughout.  As  a  rule,  an 
exposition  sliould  begin  with  what  needs  least  explana- 
tion, and  should  go  on  to  the  more  and  more  difficult; 
but  there  may  be  reasons  in  the  nature  of  the  subject  or 
in  the  capacity  of  the  persons  addressed  for  pursuing  the 
opposite  course.  Sometimes  it  may  be  expedient  to  begin 
by  setting  forth  in  a  compendious  form  the  central  idea 
of  the  exposition,  and  then  gradually  to  develop  that  idea 
till  the  reader  sees  all  that  it  contains ;  or  it  may  be  ex- 
pedient to  begin  with  details  and  move  from  them  to  the 
whole:  that  is,  the  method  may  be  either  analytic  or 
synthetic. 

Whatever  method  is  adopted  should  be  plain  and 
straightforward  from  beginning  to  end.  Every  part  of 
the  subject,  small  or  large,  should  lead  from  what  pre- 
cedes to  what  follows  ;  the  misplacement  of  a  single  part 
may  make  an  exposition  obscure.  The  value  of  method 
in  exposition  is  shown  in  the  following  passage  from 
Addison  :  — 

Cheerfulness. 

"I  have  always  preferred  cheerfulness  to  mirth.  The  latter  I 
consider  as  an  act,  the  former  as  a  habit  of  the  mind.  Mirth  is 
short  and  transient,  cheerfulness  fixed  and  permanent.    Those  are 


EXPOSITION.  315 

often  raised  into  the  greatest  transports  of  mirth  who  are  subject 
to  the  greatest  depressions  of  nielanclioly.  On  the  contrary,  cheer- 
fulness, though  it  does  not  give  tlie  mind  sucli  an  exquisite  glad- 
ness, prevents  us  from  falling  into  any  depths  of  soitow.  Mirth  is 
like  a  flash  of  lightning,  that  breaks  through  a  gloom  of  clouds, 
and  glitters  for  a  moment ;  cheerfulness  keeps  up  a  kind  of  day- 
ight  in  the  mind,  and  fills  it  with  a  steady  and  perpetual  serenity. 

"  Men  of  austere  principles  look  upon  mirth  as  too  wanton  and 
dissolute  for  a  state  of  probation,  and  as  filled  with  a  certain 
triumph  and  insolence  of  heart  that  is  inconsistent  with  a  life 
which  is  every  moment  obnoxious  to  the  greatest  dangers.  Writers 
of  this  complexion  have  observed,  that  the  Sacred  Person  who  was 
the  great  pattern  of  perfection  was  never  seen  to  laugh. 

"  Cheerfulness  of  mind  is  not  liable  to  any  of  these  exceptions  ; 
it  is  of  a  serious  and  composed  nature ;  it  does  not  throw  the  mind 
into  a  condition  improper  for  the  present  state  of  humanity,  and  is 
very  conspicuous  in  the  characters  of  those  who  are  looked  upon  as 
the  greatest  philosophers  among  the  heathens,  as  well  as  among 
those  who  have  been  deservedly  esteemed  as  saints  and  holy  men 
among  Christians. 

"  If  we  consider  cheerfulness  in  three  lights,  with  regard  to  our- 
selves, to  those  we  converse  with,  and  to  the  great  Author  of  our 
being,  it  will  not  a  little  recommend  itself  on  each  of  these  ac- 
counts. The  man  who  is  possessed  of  this  excellent  frame  of 
mind,  is  not  only  easy  in  his  thoughts,  but  a  perfect  master  of  all 
the  powers  and  faculties  of  the  soul.  His  imagination  is  always 
clear,  and  his  judgment  undisturbed  ;  his  temper  is  even  and  un- 
ruffled, whether  in  action  or  in  solitude.  He  comes  with  a  relish 
to  all  those  goods  which  nature  has  provided  for  him,  tastes  all  the 
pleasures  of  the  creation  which  are  poured  about  him,  and  does  not 
feel  the  full  weight  of  those  accidental  evils  which  may  befal  him. 

"  If  we  consider  him  in  relation  to  the  persons  whom  he  con- 
verses with,  it  naturally  produces  love  and  good-will  towards  him. 
A  cheerful  mind  is  not  only  disposed  to  be  affable  and  obliging, 
but  raises  the  same  good-humour  in  those  who  come  within  its  in- 
fluence. A  man  finds  himself  pleased,  he  does  not  know  why,  with 
the  cheerfulness  of  his  companion.  It  is  like  a  sudden  sunshine 
that  awakens  a  secret  delight  in  the  mind,  without  her  attending 
to  it.     The  heart  rejoices  of  its  own  accord,  and  naturally  flows 


316  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

out  into  friendsliip  and  benevolence  towards  tlie  person  who  has  so 
kindly  an  effect  upon  it. 

"  When  I  consider  this  cheerful  state  of  mind  in  its  third  rela- 
tion, I  cannot  but  look  upon  it  as  a  constant  habitual  gratitude  to 
the  great  Author  of  nature.  An  inward  cheerfulness  is  an  implicit 
praise  and  thanksgiving  to  Providence  under  all  its  dispensations. 
It  is  a  kind  of  acquiescence  in  the  state  whei'cin  we  are  placed, 
and  a  secret  approbation  of  the  divine  will  in  his  conduct  towards 
man."  ^ 

Another  example  of  methodical  arrangement  in  exposi- 
tion i.3  taken  from  an  author  who  has  done  much  to  popu- 
larize Darwinism :  — 

The  Theory  of  Natural  Selection. 
"  The  theory  of  natural  selection  rests  on  two  main  classes  of 
facts  which  apply  to  all  organised  beings  without  exception,  and 
which  thus  take  rank  as  fundamental  principles  or  laws.  The 
first  is,  the  power  of  rapid  multi[)lication  in  a  geometrical  progres- 
sion ;  the  second,  that  the  offspring  always  vary  slightly  from  the 
parents,  though  generally  very  closely  resembling  them.  From  the 
first  fact  or  law  there  follows,  necessarily,  a  constant  struggle  for 
existence ;  because,  while  the  offspring  always  exceed  the  parents 
in  number,  generally  to  an  enormous  extent,  yet  the  total  number 
of  living  organisms  in  the  world  does  not,  and  cannot,  increase 
year  by  year.  Consequently  every  year,  on  the  average,  as  many 
die  as  are  born,  plants  as  well  as  animals ;  and  the  majority  die 
premature  deaths.  They  kill  each  other  in  a  thousand  different 
ways;  they  starve  each  other  by  some  consuming  the  food  that 
others  want ;  they  are  destroyed  largely  by  the  powers  of  nature  — 
by  cold  and  heat,  by  rain  and  storm,  by  flood  and  fire.  There  is 
thus  a  perpetual  struggle  among  them  which  shall  live  and  which 
shall  die;  and  this  struggle  is  tremendously  severe,  because  so  few 
can  possibly  remain  alive  —  one  in  five,  one  in  ten,  often  only  one 
in  a  hundred  or  even  one  in  a  thousand. 

"  Then  comes  the  question.  Why  do  some  live  rather  than  others? 
If  all  the  individuals  of  each  species  were  exactly  alike  in  every  re- 
spect, we  could  only  say  it  is  a  matter  of  chance.    But  they  are  not 

1  The  Spectator,  No.  381. 


EXPOSITION,  317 

alike.  We  find  that  they  vary  in  many  different  ways.  Some  are 
stronger,  some  swifter,  some  hardier  in  constitution,  some  more 
cunning.  An  obscure  colour  may  render  concealment  more  easy 
for  some,  keener  sight  may  enable  others  to  discover  prey  or  escape 
from  an  enemy  better  than  their  fellows.  Among  plants  the  small- 
est differences  may  be  useful  or  the  reverse.  The  earliest  and 
strongest  shoots  may  escape  the  slug;  their  greater  vigour  may 
enable  them  to  flower  and  seed  earher  in  a  wet  autumn ;  plants 
best  armed  with  spines  or  hairs  may  escape  being  devoured;  those 
whose  flowers  are  most  conspicuous  may  be  soonest  fertilised  by 
insects.  We  cannot  doubt  that,  on  the  whole,  any  beneficial  varia- 
tions will  give  the  possessors  of  it  [sic]  a  greater  probability  of  liv- 
ing through  the  tremendous  ordeal  they  have  to  undergo.  There 
may  be  something  left  to  chance,  but  on  the  whole  the  fittest  will 
survive. 

"  Then  we  have  another  important  fact  to  consider,  the  principle 
of  heredity  or  transmission  of  variations.  If  we  grow  plants  from 
seed  or  breed  any  kind  of  animals  year  after  year,  consuming  or 
giving  away  all  the  increase  we  do  not  wish  to  keep  just  as  they 
come  to  hand,  our  plants  or  animals  will  continue  much  the  same ; 
but  if  every  year  we  carefully  save  the  best  seed  to  sow  and  the 
finest  or  brightest  coloured  animals  to  breed  from,  w^e  shall  soon 
find  that  an  improvement  will  take  place,  and  that  the  average 
quality  of  our  stock  will  be  raised.  This  is  the  way  in  which  all 
our  fine  garden  fruits  and  vegetables  and  flowers  have  been  pro- 
duced, as  well  as  all  our  splendid  breeds  of  domestic  animals ;  and 
they  have  thus  become  in  many  cases  so  different  from  the  wild 
races  from  which  they  originally  sprang  as  to  be  hardly  recognis- 
able as  the  same.  It  is  therefore  proved  that  if  any  particnlar  kind 
of  variation  is  preserved  and  bred  from,  the  variation  itself  goes  on 
increasing  in  amount  to  an  enormous  extent ;  and  the  bearing  of 
this  on  the  question  of  the  origin  of  species  is  most  important.  For 
if  in  each  generation  of  a  given  animal  or  plant  the  fittest  survive 
to  continue  the  breed,  then  whatever  may  be  the  special  peculiarity 
that  causes  '  fitness  '  in  the  particular  case,  that  peculiarity  will  go 
on  increasing  and  strengthening  an  long  r/.v  it  is  useful  to  the  species. 
But  the  moment  it  has  reached  its  maximum  of  usefulness,  and 
some  other  quality  or  modification  would  help  in  the  struggle, 
then  the  individuals  which  vary  in  the  new  direction  will  survive ; 


318  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

and  thus  a  species  may  be  gradually  modified,  first  in  one  direc 
tion,  then  in  another,  till  it  differs  from  the  original  parent  form 
as  nmch  as  the  greyhound  differs  from  any  wild  dog  or  the  cauli- 
flower from  any  wild  plant.  But  animals  or  plants  which  thus 
differ  in  a  state  of  nature  are  always  classed  as  distinct  species, 
and  thus  we  see  how,  by  the  continuous  survival  of  the  fittest  or 
the  preservation  of  favoured  i-aces  in  the  struggle  for  life,  new 
species  may  be  originated."  ^ 

In  exposition,  as  in  other  kinds  of  composition,  clear- 
ness is  not  an  absolute  term.     An  exposition  of  a  recent 
Clearness  a    discoverv  in  scicncc  that  would  be  readily  un- 

niatter  of 

adaptation,  dcrstood  by  a  specialist  might  be  unintelligi- 
ble to  the  ordinary  reader.  An  exposition  of  theological 
doctrine  that  would  be  perfectly  clear  to  a  convocation 
of  ecclesiastical  dignitaries  might  be  far  from  clear  to 
an  ordinary  congregation.  An  exposition  of  the  facts 
and  principles  in  a  suit  at  law  that  would  be  clear  to 
a  judge  might  not  be  clear  to  a  jury.  An  exposition 
that  would  be  clear  to  one  jury  might  not  be  clear  to 
another ;  and  if,  as  usually  happens,  some  members  of 
a  jury  should  have  more  knowledge  or  more  intelligence 
than  others,  the  lawyers  would  have  to  adjust  their  re- 
marks to  the  needs  of  the  ignorant  or  the  unintelligent. 
In  every  case,  an  exposition  should  be  adapted  to  the 
probable  hearer  or  reader.  In  exposition,  indeed,  more 
than  in  any  other  kind  of  composition,  clearness  is  a 
relative  quality .^  From  description  or  narration  a  reader 
may  get  something,  even  though  he  does  not  fully  under- 
stand what  is  meant ;  but  an  exposition  that  is  but  half 
understood  by  those  to  whom  it  is  addressed  fails  of  its 
purpose. 

^  Alfred  Russel  Wallace :  Darwinism,  an  Expositiou  of  the  Theory  of 
Natural  Selection,  chap.  i. 
2  See  pages  90-92. 


EXPOSITION.  319 

Closely  allied  to  clearness  in  exposition,  and  perhaps 
more  difficult  of  attainment,  is  unity.  Dr.  Phelps  once 
asked  an  association  of  clergymen  what  was  unity  an  auy 
their  chief  difficulty  in  expository  preaching.  "^  "^i^*™®^^- 
The  almost  unanimous  answer  was,  "The  want  of  unity." 
"  For  this  reason,"  says  Dr.  Phelps,  "  they  could  not  in- 
terest in  that  kind  of  preaching  either  their  hearers  or 
themselves.  The  problem  is  how  to  interweave  the 
textual  materials  into  one  fabric.  The  sermon  is  apt 
to  be  a  string  of  beads  with  nothing  but  the  string  to 
make  them  one."^  Preachers  are  not  the  only  exposi- 
tors whose  work  suffers  from  the  fact  that  as  a  whole  it 
conveys  an  obscure  or  a  confused  impression,  and  this 
though  each  part  may  be  clear  in  itself.  To  obviate 
this  difficulty  the  subject  of  discourse  should  be  kept 
constantly  in  view,  irrelevant  matter  should  be  ex- 
cluded, and  the  laws  of  proportion  should  be  duly 
observed.^  These  principles  are  exemplified  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage :  — 

The  Grand  Style  in  Poetry. 

"  For  those,  then,  who  ask  the  question,  —  What  is  the  grand 
style  ?  —  with  sincerity,  I  will  try  to  make  some  answer,  inade- 
quate as  it  must  be.  For  those  who  ask  it  mockingly  I  have  no 
answer,  except  to  repeat  to  them,  with  compassionate  sorrow,  the 
Gospel  words  :  Moriemini  in  peccatis  vest7-is,  —  Ye  shall  die  in  your 
sins. 

"  But  let  me,  at  any  rate,  have  the  pleasure  of  again  giving,  be- 
fore I  begin  to  try  and  define  the  grand  style,  a  specimen  of  what 

it  is. 

*  Standing  on  earth,  not  rapt  above  the  pole, 
More  safe  I  sing  with  mortal  voice,  unclianged 
To  hoarse  or  mute,  though  fall'n  on  evil  days, 
On  evil  days  though  fall'n,  and  evil  tongues'  .  .  . 

1  Austin  Phelps  :  The  Theory  of  Preaching,  lect.  xiii. 

2  See  pages  239-243. 


320  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

There  is  the  grand  style  in  perfection ;  and  any  one  who  has  a 
sense  for  it,  will  feel  it  a  thousand  times  better  from  repeating 
those  lines  than  from  hearing  anything  T  can  say  about  it. 

"  Let  us  try,  however,  what  can  be  said,  controlling  what  we  say 
by  examples.  I  think  it  will  be  found  that  the  grand  style  arises 
in  poetry,  when  a  noble  nature,  pueticallij  gifted,  treats  icith  aim/ilicity 
or  with  seceritij  a  serious  subject.  I  think  this  definition  will  be 
found  to  cover  all  instances  of  the  grand  style  in  poetry  which 
present  themselves.  I  think  it  will  be  found  to  exclude  all  poetry 
which  is  not  in  the  grand  style.  And  I  think  it  contains  no  terms 
which  are  obscure,  which  themselves  need  defining.  Even  those 
who  do  not  understand  what  is  meant  by  calling  poetry  noble,  will 
understand,  I  imagine,  what  is  meant  by  speaking  of  a  noble  nature 
in  a  man.  But  the  noble  or  powerful  nature  —  the  bedeutendes  in- 
diciduum  of  Goethe  —  is  not  enough.  For  instance,  Mr.  Newman  ^ 
has  zeal  for  learning,  zeal  for  thinking,  zeal  for  liberty,  and  all 
these  things  are  noble,  they  ennoble  a  man ;  but  he  has  not  the 
poetical  gift :  there  must  be  the  poetical  gift,  the  '  divine  faculty,' 
also.  And,  besides  all  this,  the  subject  must  be  a  serious  one  (for 
it  is  only  by  a  kind  of  license  that  we  can  speak  of  the  grand  style 
in  comedy)  ;  and  it  must  be  treated  with  simplicity  or  severity.  Here 
is  the  great  difficulty:  the  poets  of  the  world  have  been  many; 
there  has  been  wanting  neither  abundance  of  poetical  gift  nor 
abundance  of  noble  natures ;  but  a  poetical  gift  so  happy,  in  a 
noble  nature  so  circumstanced  and  trained,  that  the  result  is  a 
continuous  style,  perfect  in  simplicity  or  perfect  in  severity,  has 
been  extremely  rare.  One  poet  has  had  the  gifts  of  nature  and 
faculty  in  unequalled  fulness,  without  the  circumstances  and  train- 
ing which  make  this  sustained  perfection  of  style  possible.  Of 
other  poets,  some  have  caught  this  perfect  strain  now  and  then,  in 
short  pieces  or  single  lines,  but  have  not  been  able  to  maintain  it 
through  considerable  works ;  others  have  composed  all  their  pro- 
ductions in  a  style  which,  by  comparison  with  the  best,  one  must 
call  secondary. 

"The  best  model  of  the  grand  style  simple  is  Homer;  perhaps 
the  best  model  of  the  grand  style  severe  is  Milton.  But  Dante  is 
remarkable  for  affording  admirable  examples  of  both  styles ;  he  has 
the  grand  style  which  arises  from  simplicity,  and  he  has  the  grand 

^  Mr.  Francis  William  Newman,  a  translator  of  "  The.Diad." 


EXPOSITION.  321 

style  which  arises  from  severity ;  and  from  him  I  will  illustrate 
them  both.  In  a  former  lecture  I  pointed  out  what  that  severity 
of  poetical  style  is,  which  comes  from  saying  a  thing  with  a  kind 
of  intense  compression,  or  in  an  allusive,  brief,  almost  haughty 
way,  as  if  the  poet's  mind  were  charged  with  so  many  and  such 
grave  matters,  that  he  would  not  deign  to  treat  any  one  of  them 
explicitly.  Of  this  severity  the  last  line  of  the  following  stanza  of 
the  Purgatory  is  a  good  example.  Dante  has  been  telling  Forese 
that  Vii'gil  had  guided  him  through  Hell,  and  he  goes  on  : 

'  Indi  m'  ban  tratto  su  gli  suoi  conforti, 
Salendo  e  rigirando  la  Moutagna 
Che  drizza  voi  cite  il  mondo  fece  torti.*^ 

'  Thence  hath  his  comforting  aid  led  me  up,  climbing  and  circling 
the  Mountain  which  straightens  you  whom  the  loorld  made  crooked.' 
These  last  words,  '  la  Montagna  che  drizza  voi  che  il  mondo  fece 
lord,'  — '  the  Mountain  which  straightens  you  whom  the  world  made 
crooked'  —  for  the  IMountain  of  Purgatory,  I  call  an  excellent  speci- 
men of  the  grand  style  in  severity,  where  the  poet's  mind  is  too 
full  charged  to  suffer  him  to  speak  more  explicitly.  But  the  very 
next  stanza  is  a  beautiful  specimen  of  the  grand  style  in  simplicity, 
where  a  noble  nature  and  a  poetical  gift  unite  to  utter  a  thing  with 
the  most  limpid  plainness  and  clearness  : 

'  Tanto  dice  di  f armi  sua  compagna 
Ch'  io  sarb  la  dove  fia  Beatrice  ; 
Quivi  convien  che  senza  lui  rimagna.'  ^ 

<  So  long,'  Dante  continues,  '  so  long  he  (Virgil)  saith  he  will  bear 
me  company,  until  I  shall  be  there  where  Beatrice  is  ;  there  it  be- 
hoves that  without  him  1  remain.'  But  the  noble  simplicity  of  that 
in  the  Italian  no  words  of  mine  can  render. 

"  Both  these  styles,  the  simple  and  the  severe,  are  truly  grand ; 
the  severe  seems,  perhaps,  the  grandest,  so  long  as  we  attend  most 
to  the  great  personality,  to  the  noble  nature,  in  the  poet  its  author  ; 
the  simple  seems  the  grandest  when  we  attend  most  to  the  exqui- 
site faculty,  to  the  poetical  gift.  But  the  simple  is  no  doubt  to  be 
preferred.  It  is  the  more  magical:  in  the  other  there  is  something 
intellectual,  something  which  gives  scope  for  a  play  of  thought 

1  Dante:  II  Purgatorio,  xxiii.  124. 

2  Ibid.,  xxiii.  127. 
14* 


322  KINDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

which  may  exist  where  the  poetical  gift  is  either  wanting  or 
present  in  only  inferior  degree :  the  severe  is  much  more  imitable, 
and  this  a  little  spoils  its  charm.  A  kind  of  semblance  of  this 
style  keeps  Young  going,  one  may  say,  through  all  the  nine  parts 
of  that  most  indifferent  production,  the  Night  Thoughts.  But  the 
grand  style  in  simplicity  is  inimitable."  ^ 

A  striking  example  of  exposition  without  unity  is 
given  by  Dr.  Phelps :  — 

"  A  Presbyterian  clergyman  in  a  Southern  city  once  preached  a 
sermon  on  these  words,  '  It  containeth  much.'  The  text  was  a 
fragment  broken  from  a  verse  in  the  Book  of  Ezekiel,  'Thou  shalt 
drink  of  thy  sister's  cup :  .  .  .  it  containeth  much.'  The  passage 
is  a  comminatory  one  addressed  to  the  ancient  people  of  God.  The 
preacher,  probably  in  that  vacuity  of  thought  which  is  apt  to  dilute 
the  beginnings  of  sermons,  pounced  upon  the  word  '  it,'  which  had 
the  distinction  of  heading  the  text.  He  remarked,  that,  as  the 
context  indicated, '  the  word  had  for  its  antecedent  the  word  "  cup.'' 
"Thy  sister's  cup:  it  containeth  much:"  thou  shalt  di'ink  of  it; 
of  thy  sister's  cup  shalt  thou  drink;  it  containeth  much:  a  full 
cup,  brethren,  it  containeth  much :  yes,  thou  shalt  drink  of  thy 
sister's  cup ;  it  containeth  much,  —  these  are  the  words  of  our 
text.' 

"  I  give  you  in  the  rough  my  impressions  of  the  sermon  after 
thirty  years,  not  claiming  verbal  accuracy.  The  impression  of  the 
exposition,  however,  which  has  remained  in  my  mind,  justifies  this 
inane  mouthing  of  the  text  as  the  preliminary  to  the  following  ex- 
position. The  exegesis  of  the  word  '  cup  '  was  the  burden  of  it.  I 
do  not  exaggerate  in  saying  that  he  told  us  of  the  great  variety  of 
senses  in  which  the  word  '  cup '  is  used  in  the  Scriptures.  A  mar- 
vellous word  is  it.  The  Bible  speaks  of  the  '  cup  of  salvation,'  and, 
again,  of  the  '  cup  of  consolation  ; '  then  it  is  the  '  cup  of  trembling,' 
and  the  '  wine-cup  of  fury.'  Babylon  is  called  a  '  golden  cup.'  The 
cup  of  Joseph  which  was  hidden  in  the  sack  of  Benjamin  was  a 
'silver  cup.'  The  Pharisees,  we  are  told,  '  made  clean  the  outside 
of  the  cup ; '  and,  '  he  shall  not  lose  his  reward  who  giveth  a  cup  of 

1  Matthew  Arnold :  Essays  in  Criticism;  On  Translating  Homers  Last 
Words. 


EXPOSITION.  323 

eold  water  iu  the  name  of  a  disciple.'  And  therefore  in  the  text 
we  are  told,  '  Thou  shalt  drink  of  thy  sister's  cup :  it  containeth 
much.'  The  preacher  rambled  on  in  this  manner,  with  his  finger 
on  the  right  page  of  the  concordance,  till  at  last  the  sound  of  the 
word  'cup'  was  made  familiar  to  the  audience;  and  having  accu- 
mulated, as  I  have  in  this  paragraph,  a  respectable  bulk  of  '  sound- 
ing brass,'  the  preacher  announced  as  his  subject  of  discourse  th« 
future  punishment  of  the  wicked.'.'  ^ 

Clearness  and  unity  are  essential  to  every  exposition : 

clearness  that  liglits  up  every  part  of  the  subject,  unity 

that   keeps    the   subject   constantly   iu    view.  The  principle* 

These  qualities  are,  however,  not  enough  for  good   writing 

apply  to  expo- 
exposition  in  its  highest  form.     A  writer  who  sitiou. 

expects  to  interest  his  readers  should  comply  with  the 
principles  that  govern  all  good  writing.  He  sliould  avoid 
prolixity  as  well  as  excessive  conciseness :  while  taking 
care  not  to  leave  a  topic  until  he  has  made  himself  un- 
derstood, he  should  not  dwell  on  it  after  he  has  made 
himself  understood.  He  should  never  explain  that 
which  does  not  need  explanation.  He  should  never 
move  so  slowly  as  to  make  his  hearers  or  his  readers 
impatient. 

" '  Mr.  Jones,'  said  Chief  Justice  Marshall  on  one  occasion,  to  an 
attorney  who  was  rehearsing  to  the  Court  some  elementary  princi- 
ple from  Blackstone's  Commentaries,  '  there  are  some  tilings  which 
the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  may  be  presumed  to  knew.' 
]\Iany  an  audience  would  give  the  same  reproof  to  some  expository 
preachers,  if  they  could.  Their  defenceless  position  should  shield 
them  from  assumptions  of  their  ignorance  which  they  can  not  re- 
sent. Be  generous,  therefore,  to  the  intelligence  of  your  hearers. 
Assume  sometimes  that  they  know  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Do  not 
quote  the  Ten  Commandments  as  if  they  had  been  revealed  to 
you,  instead  of  to  Moses.  The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  a  very  an- 
cient specimen  of  moral  philosophy :  do  not  cite  it  as  if  it  were  an 

1  AustLn  Flielpg :  The  Tbeory  of  Pneaciungy  leot.  xiii. 


324  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 


enactment  of  the  last  Congress.  The  Parables  are  older  than  the 
*  Meditations '  of  Aurelius  Antoninus :  why,  then,  rehearse  them 
as  if  from  the  proof-sheets  of  the  first  edition  ?  In  a  word,  why 
suffer  the  minds  of  your  audience  to  be  more  nimble  than  your 
own,  and  to  outrun  you? 

•  •  •  •  •  •  • 

"  It  degrades  exposition  to  putter  over  it  in  a  pettifogging  way, 
trusting  nothing  to  the  good  sense  of  an  audience,  and  assuming 
nothing  as  already  known  to  them.  On  the  text,  '  I  am  the  good 
shepherd,'  said  a  preacher  in  the  chapel  of  this  Seminary,  —  and 
that  after  twenty  years  of  experience  in  the  pulpit,  — '  a  sheep,  my 
brethren,  is  a  very  defenseless  animal.  A  shepherd  is  one  who 
takes  care  of  sheep.'  If  a  New  England  audience  can  not  be  sup- 
posed to  know  what  a  sheep  is,  what  do  they  know?"  ^ 

In  exposition,  as  in  other  kinds  of  composition,  a  writer 
should  stimulate  interest  by  variety  in  expression.  He 
may  avail  himself  of  every  means  by  which  he  can  ex- 
plain or  illustrate  his  thought, — comparison,  contrast, 
antithesis,  climax,  epigram,  figure  of  speech, —  but  he 
should  never  forget  that  these  are  means  to  the  end  of 
exposition  and  are  useful  so  far  and  so  far  only  as  they 
conduce  to  that  end. 

Except  in  the  most  abstruse  writing,  exposition  may 
be,  and  usually  is,  accompanied  by  passages  of  description 
or  of  narration  that  give  life  and  variety  to  the  composi- 
Exposition  ^^^^  ^^^  ^^  ^^^®  samc  time  help  to  communicate 
de^riptfon'*^  the  meaning  intended.  Exposition  may  pre- 
and  narration.  p^j,g  ^^^  ^^^^  £qj.  ^  dcscription  Or  a  narrative ; 

it  often  serves  to  explain  what  the  descriptive  writer  or 
the  narrator  is  talking  about;  and  it  sometimes  uses 
description  or  narration  as  a  means  to  its  own  end.^ 

1  Austin  Phelps :  The  Theory  of  Preaching,  lect.  xiii. 
-  See  the  passage  from  Taine  (pp.  305,  306),  and  that  from  Webstei 
(pp.  308-310). 


EXPOSITION.  325 

In  the  following  passage,  both  description  and  narra^ 
tion  are  used  in  the  service  of  exposition,  the  exposition 
of  a  woman's  personality:  — 

"Mrs.  Peacocke,  iu  her  line,  succeeded  almost  as  well  [as  her 
husband].     She  was  a  woman  something  over  thnty  years  of  age 
when  she  first  came  to  Bowick,  in  the  very  pride  and  bloom  of 
woman's  beauty.      Her   complexion  was   dark   and  brown,  — so 
much  so,  that  it  was  impossible  to  describe  her  colour  generally 
by  any  other  word.     But  no  clearer  skin  was  ever  given  to  a 
woman.     Her  eyes  were  brown,  and  her  eye-brows  black,  and  per- 
fectly regular.  "^  Her  hair  was  dark  and  very  glossy,  and  always 
dressed  as  simply  as  the  nature  of   a  woman's  head  will  allow. 
Her  features  were  regular,  but  with  a  great  show  of  strength.    She 
was  tall  for  a  woman,  but  without  any  of  that   look  of  length 
under  which  female  altitude  sometimes  suffers.     She  was  strong 
and  well  made,  and  apparently  equal  to  any  labour  to  which  her 
position  might  subject  her.     When  she  had  been  at  Bowick  about 
three  months,  a  boy's  leg  had  been  broken,  and  she  had  nursed 
him,  not  only  with  assiduity,  but  with  great  capacity.     The  boy 
was  the  youngest  son  of  the  Marchioness  of  Altamont ;  and  when 
Lady  Altamont  paid  a  second  visit  to  Bowick,  for  the  sake  of  tak- 
ing her  boy  home  as  soon  as  he  was  fit  to  be  moved,  her  ladyship 
made  a  little  mistake.     With  the  sweetest   and  most  caressing 
smile  in  the  world,  she  offered  Mrs.  Peacocke  a  tenpound  note. 
'  My  dear  madam,'  said  Mrs.  Peacocke,  without  the  slightest  re- 
serve or  difficulty,  '  it  is  so  natural  that  you  should  do  this,  because 
you  cannot  of  course  understand  my  position  ;  bi;t  it  is  altogether 
out  of  the  question.'     The  INIarchioness  blushed,  and  stammered, 
and  begged  a  hundred  pardons.      Being  a  good-natured  woman, 
she  told  the  whole  story  to  j\Irs.  Wortle.     '  I  would  just  as  soon 
have  offered  the  money  to  the  Marchioness  herself,'  said  Mrs. 
Wortle,  as  she  told  it  to  her  husband.      '  I  would  have  done  it 
a  deal  sooner,'  said  the  Doctor.     '  I  am  not  in  the  least  afraid  of 
Lady  Altamont;  but  I  stand  in  awful  di-ead  of  Mrs.  Peacocke.' 
Nevertheless    Mrs.    Peacocke   had   done   her   work   by   the   little 
lord's  bed-side,  just  as  though  .she  had  been  a  paid  nurse. 

"And   so   she   felt  herself  to  be.     Nor  was  she  in  the  least 
ashamed  of  her  position  in  that  respect.     If  there  was  aught  of 


326  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

shame  about  hei',  as  some  people  said,  it  certainly  did  not  come 
from  the  fact  that  she  was  in  receipt  of  a  salary  for  the  per- 
formance of  certain  prescribed  duties.  Such  remuneration  was, 
she  thought,  as  honourable  as  the  Doctor's  income ;  but  to  her 
American  intelligence,  the  acceptance  of  a  present  of  money 
from  a  Marchioness  would  have  been  a  degradation."^ 

Among  examples  of  successful  exposition  that  are 
too  long  to  quote  are :  the  lecture  on  "  Idealism  and 
Examples  of  Naturalism,"  in  Mr.  Otto  Pfleiderer's  "Philos- 
expoaition.  opiiy  and  Development  of  Keligion ; "  the  chap- 
ter on  "  Intellectual  Education,"  in  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer's 
"  Education ; "  the  chapter  on  "  Money,"  in  Mill's  "  Prin- 
ciples of  Political  Economy  ; "  the  cliapter  on  "  Sweetness 
and  Light,"  in  Matthew  Arnold's  "  Culture  and  Anarchy;" 
the  report  of  the  Committee  on  Secondary  School 
Studies  to  the  National  Council  of  Education ;  Walter 
Bagehot's  "English  Constitution;"  Mr.  A.  E.  Wallace's 
"Darwinism."^ 

1  Anthony  Trollope :  Dr.  Wortle's  School,  part  i.  chap.  li. 

2  Other  examples  are  given  in  "Specimens  of  Exposition,"  selected 
and  edited  by  Hammoud  Lamout. 


CHAPTEK  IV. 

AKGUMENT. 

Argument,  like  exposition,  addresses  the  understanding ; 
but  there  is  an  important  difference  between  the  two. 
Exposition  achieves  its  purpose  if  it  makes  the  Argument 
persons   addressed   understand  what   is   said;  ^f^"^^^®** 
argument   achieves   its   purpose   if   it   makes  e^po^t^o"*- 
them   believe  that  what  is  maintained   is   true :   expo- 
sition aims  at  explaining,  argument  at  convincing.      The 
difference  between  an  argument  and  an  exposition  may 
be  shown  by  a  comparison  between  the  address  of   an 
advocate  to  the  jury  and  the  charge  of  the  judge.     The 
advocate  tries  to  convince  the  jury  that  his  client  has 
the  right  on  his  side ;  the  judge,  if  he  has  the  truly  judi- 
cial spirit,  tries  to  make  the  jury  understand  the  question 
at  issue  exactly  as  it  is. 

The  work  of  argument  is  sometimes  done  by  exposi- 
tion. Thus,  Cardinal  Newman  ^  expounds  the  distinction 
between  true  and  false  education  so  skilfully  Argument  in 

the  form  of 

that  the  reader  draws  for  himself  the  conclu-  exposition, 
sion  suggested,  but  not  proved,  by  the  author;  and 
Webster  2  points  out  so  plainly  the  evils  that  would 
result  from  an  attempt  to  nullify  a  law  of  the  United 
States  that  the  inference  from  what  he  says  is  unmis- 
takable.    Argument  which  thus  takes  the  form  of  expo- 

1  See  pages  312,  313.  *  See  pages  308-310. 


328  KINDS  OF   COMrOSITION. 

sition  may  be  more  effective  than  it  would  be  in  its  own 
form. 

The  way  for  argument  is  often  prepared  by  exposition. 
Some  words  of  the  assertion  in  dispute  may  need  to  be 
Argument  defined  aud  their  relations  to  one  another  made 
by  exposition,  clear.  If  the  subject  1=5  r-ovel  or  complex,  the 
assertion  as  a  whole  may  need  to  be  explained  before  the 
argument  is  begun.  It  is  useless  to  try  to  convince  a  man 
of  the  truth  of  anything  that  he  does  not  understand. 


SECTION  I. 
Proposition  and  Proof. 

The  body  of  every  composition  in  which  reasoning 
plays  an  important  part  consists  of  the  teoposition  in 
Proposition  dispute,  —  tlic  assertiou  which  is  to  be  proved 
defined.  or  disprovcd,  —  and  the  proof,  which  includes 

whatever  tends  to  show  either  that  this  proposition  is 
true  or  that  it  is  false.  The  aim  of  argument  is  to  con- 
vince the  persons  addressed  that  the  proof  is  sufficient  to 
establish,  or  to  overthrow,  the  proposition. 

For  exposition  a  word  may  serve  as  subject,  since 
one  form  of  exposition  is  the  definition  of  a  word ; 
A  word  not       but    for    argumcut   a   word   cannot   so   serve. 

a  subject  for 

argument.  "  Houesty,"  for  example,  is  in  no  just  sense  a 
subject  for  argument;  for,  though  many  propositions 
about  honesty  can  be  framed,  the  word  by  itself  sug- 
gests no  one  of  them  rather  than  another :  but  "  Honesty 
is  the  best  policy "  is  a  subject ;  for  it  makes  a  definite 
assertion,  an  assertion  that  can  be  reasoned  about. 

Nothing  can  free  a  writer  or  a  speaker  from  the  obliga- 
tion of  having  the  proposition  distinctly  fixed  in  his  own 


AEGUMENT.  329 

mind  before  he  begins   Ms   argument ;    for .  he   cannot 
safely  take  the  first  step  toward  proving  a  proposition 
until   he   knows  exactly  what  proposition  is  importance 
to  be  proved.     The  process  of  investigation,  by  a  distinct 

.  ,  ,     .  1        .  proposition 

which   a  man  arrives  at  certam  conclusions,  lumiud. 
should  be  completed  before  the  argumentative  process,  by 
which  he  endeavors  to  convince  others  of  the  correctness 
of  those  conclusions,  can  advantageously  be  begun. 

Proof  may  be  either  direct  or  indirect.     Direct  proof 
goes  straight  to  the  desired  conclusion.     Indirect  proof 
demonstrates   the  truth  of   a   proposition   by  Proof,  direct 
showing  that  the  opposite  conclusion  is  absurd ;  *"*^  '"^^irect. 
it  is,  therefore,  called  redudio  ad  absurdum. 

A  familiar  example  of  redudio  ad  ahsurdum  may  be 
taken  from  a  treatise  on  geometry :  - 

"  Two  perpendiculars  to  the  same  straight  Hue  are  parallel. 


-B 
-D 


"  Let  the  lines  .1  B  and  C  Z)  be  perpendicular  to  A  C. 

"  To  prove  A  B  and  C  D  parallel. 

"  If  .4  B  and  C  D  are  not  parallel,  they  will  meet  in  some  point 
if  sufficiently  produced. 

"We  should  then  have  two  perpendiculars  from  the  same  point 
to  A  C,  which  is  impossible. 

"  [From  a  j^iven  point  without  a  straight  line  but  one  perpen- 
dicular can  be  drawn  to  the  line.] 

«  Therefore,  A  B  and  C  D  cannot  meet,  and  are  parallel. "  * 

^  Webster  Wells ;  The  Elements  of  Geometry,  book  i. 


330  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

An  argument  which  can  be  answered  by  reductio  ad  ab- 
surdiom  is  said  to  prove  too  much,  —  that  is,  too  much  for 
its  force  as  an  argument ;  since,  if  the  conclusion  is  true, 
a  general  proposition  which  lies  bahind  it  and  includes  it 
is  also  true.  To  show  this  ganeral  proposition  in  its 
absurdity  is  to  overthrow  the  conclusion.  The  argu- 
ment carries  in  itself  the  means  of  its  own  destruction. 
For  example :  — 

(1)  Skill  in  public  speaking  is  liable  to  great  abuse;  it  should, 
therefore,  not  be  cultivated. 

(2)  Skill  in  public  sj^eaking  is  liable  to  great  abuse;  but  so 
are  the  best  things  in  the  world,  —  as  health,  wealth,  power,  mili- 
tary skill ;  1  the  best  things  in  the  world  should,  therefore,  not  be 
cultivated. 

In  this  example,  the  indirect  argument  under  (2)  overthrows 
the  direct  argument  under  (1)  by  bringing  into  view  the  general 
proposition  omitted  from  (1)  but  implied  in  it,  —  namely,  that 
nothing  which  is  liable  to  great  abuse  should  be  cultivated.  The 
absurdity  of  this  general  proposition  is  made  apparent  by  the 
specific  instances  cited. 

The  argument  that  games  of  football  should  be  given  up 
because  players  sometimes  sustain  severe  injuries  may  be  disposed 
of  in  a  similar  way ;  for  horseback-riders  and  boating-men  are  not 
exempt  from  danger. 

In  Plato's  dialogues,  Socrates  often  applies  reductio  ad  ahmrdum 
to  the  argument  of  an  opponent.  Thus,  in  "  The  Republic," 
Thrasymachus  lays  down  the  principle  that  justice  is  the  interest 
of  the  stronger.  This  principle  he  explains  by  saying  that  the 
power  in  each  State  is  vested  in  the  rulers,  and  that,  therefore, 
justice  demands  that  which  is  for  the  interest  of  the  rulers. 
Whereupon  Socrates  makes  him  admit  that  it  is  just  for  subjects 
to  obey  their  rulers,  and  also  that  rulers,  not  being  infallible,  may 
unintentionally  command  that  which  is  to  their  own  injury. 
"  Then  justice,  according  to  your  argument,"  concludes  Socrates, 
"  is  not  only  the  interest  of  the  stronger  but  the  reverse."  ' 

1  See  Aristotle:  Rhetoric,  book  i  chap.  i. 
'  See  Jowett's  Plato,  vol.  ii.  pp.  159-161. 


ARGUMENT.  331 

Another  example  of  rediicdo  ad  ahsurdum  is  furnished  by  the  re- 
ply to  tiie  arguments  which  attempt  to  prove  by  means  of  an  alleged 
cipher  that  Bacon  wrote  the  plays  attributed  to  Shakspere.  All  the 
arguments  adduced  in  favor  of  this  proposition  may,  as  its  oppo- 
nents contend,  be  used  to  prove  that  anybody  wrote  anything. 

In  a  direct  argument,  a  reasoner  openly  seeks  to  estab- 
lish, or  to  refute,  a  proposition.  In  an  indirect  argument, 
he  often  masks  his  purpose  in  order  the  more  surely  to 
prove  the  falsity  of  his  opponent's  arguments  :  he  pre- 
tends to  agree  with  them ;  he  maintains  with  mock  seri- 
ousness —  irony  —  the  opposite  of  that  which  he  himself 
believes. 

Well-known  instances  of  ironical  argument  are  Burke's 
"  Vindication  of  Natural  Society,"  in  which  Bolingbroke's 
arguments  against  religious  institutions  are  applied  to  civil 
society ;  Defoe's  "  Shortest  Way  with  Dissenters,"  in 
which  the  author  personates  a  "  High-flier  "  (that  is,  a 
Tory  with  extreme  High-church  views)  in  order  to 
prove  that  the  doctrines  of  such  a  man  would  justify 
the  burning  of  dissenters;  Swift's  "Argument  against 
the  Abolishment  of  Christianity,"  and  his  "  Modest  Pro- 
posal" for  relieving  Ireland  from  famine  by  having  the 
children  cooked  and  eaten  ;  Whately's  "  Historic  Doubts," 
in  which  Hume's  arguments  against  Christianity  are  used 
to  prove  that  Napoleon  Bonaparte  never  lived. 

Before  beginning  to  argue,  a  reasoner  not  only  should 
have    clearly    in    mind  the  proposition   in  dispute,  but 
should  know  on  which  side  rests  the  burden  Burden  of 
of  proof.      The  general   rule  in  this   matter  presumption. 
is  embodied  in  the  legal  maxim  that  "he  who  affirms 
must  prove." 

"  The  burden  of  proof  as  to  any  particular  fact  lies  on  that  per« 
son  who  wishes  the  Court  to  believe  in  its  existence,  unless  it  is 


332  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

provided  by  any  law  that  the  bui-den  of  proving  that  fact  shall  lie 
on  any  particular  person.  .  .  . 

"  A  prosecutes  B  for  theft,  and  wishes  the  Court  to  believe  that 
B  admitted  the  theft  to  C,     A  must  prove  the  admission. 

"  B  wishes  the  Court  to  believe  that,  at  the  time  in  question,  he 
was  elsewhere.     He  must  prove  it."  ^ 

The  burden  of  proof  rests  upon  those  who  advocate 
any  change  in  the  established  order  of  things,  —  vipon 
those,  for  instance,  who  maintain  that  the  Anghcan 
Church  should  be  disestablished,  that  the  House  of 
Lords  or  the  Senate  of  the  United  States  should  be  abol- 
ished, that  the  right  of  suffrage  should  be  extended  to  a 
class  of  persons  who  do  not  now  enjoy  it,  that  free-trade 
should  be  substituted  (in  the  United  States)  for  pro- 
tection, cremation  for  burial,  "  faith  cure "  for  medical 
treatment. 

A  reasoner  upon  whom  the  burden  of  proof  does  not 
rest  has,  usually,  the  'presumption  ^  in  his  favor ;  that 
is  to  say,  the  proposition  he  maintains  is  assumed  to  be 
true  in  the  absence  of  proof  to  the  contrary. 

He  upon  whom  the  burden  of  proof  rests,  and 
against  whom  the  presumption  lies,  must  overcome  the 
presumption  against  him  by  throwing  enough  evidence 
into  the  opposite  scale  to  raise  a  counter-presumption. 
The  amount  of  evidence  required  will  vary  according  as 
the  presumption  to  be  rebutted  is  weak  or  strong.  The 
presumption  in  favor  of  an  established  institution  may 
be  rebutted  by  evidence  tending  to  show  that  the  insti- 
tution in  question  is  an  obstacle  to  the  successful  work- 
ing of  some  other  established  institution  the  superior 
value  of  which  is  admitted.     There  is  a  presumption  in 

1  Sir  James  Fitzjames  Stephen :  A  Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence, 
chap.  xili.  art.  xcvi. 

2  From  prae,  before,  and  sumere,  to  tal<e. 


ARGUMENT.  333 

favor  of  a  system  of  laws  under  which  a  country  has 
flourished ;  but  if  another  country,  similarly  situated, 
has  been  still  more  prosperous  under  a  different  system 
of  laws,  there  is  a  counter-presumption  that  the  pros- 
perity of  the  first  country  is  due  to  other  causes  than 
her  laws.  A  counter-presumption  which  rebuts  the  orig- 
inal presumption  may  in  its  turn  be  rebutted  by  ad- 
ditional evidence  ;  and  thus,  in  the  course  of  a  long 
discussion,  each  side  may  several  times  enjoy  the  advan- 
tage of  the  presumption. 

A  reasoner  should  always  avail  himself  of  a  presump- 
tion in  his  favor,  if  one  exists,  and  should  never  unneces- 
sarily assume  the  burden  of  proof.  In  criminal  cases, 
the  question  upon  whom  rests  the  burden  of  proof  may 
be  a  question  of  life  or  death.^ 

"A  moderate  portion  of  common-sense,"  says  Whately,  "will 
enable  any  one  to  perceive,  and  to  show,  on  which  side  the  pre- 
sumption lies,  when  once  his  attention  is  called  to  this  question  ; 
though,  for  want  of  attention,  it  is  often  overlooked :  and  on  the 
determination  of  this  question  the  whole  character  of  a  discussion 
will  often  very  much  depend.  A  body  of  troops  may  be  perfectly 
adequate  to  the  defence  of  a  fortress  against  any  attack  that  may 
be  made  on  it ;  and  yet,  if,  ignorant  of  the  advantage  they  possess, 
they  sally  forth  into  the  open  field  to  encounter  the  enemy,  they 
may  suffer  a  repulse.  At  any  rate,  even  if  strong  enough  to  act 
on  the  offensive,  they  ought  still  to  keep  possession  of  their  for- 
tress. In  like  manner,  if  you  have  tlie  'presumption'  on  your 
side,  and  can  but  refute  all  the  arguments  brought  against  you, 
you  have,  for  the  present  at  least,  gained  a  victory :  but  if  you 
abandon  this  position,  by  suffering  this  '  presumption '  to  be  for- 
gotten, which  is  in  fact  leaving  out  one  of,  perhaps,  your  strongest 
arguments,  you  may  appear  to  be  making  a  feeble  attack,  instead 
of  a  triumphant  defence."  2 

.   1  See  York's  Case,  9  Metcalf' s  (Massachusetts)  Rep.  93. 
^  Whately:  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  iii.  sect.  ii. 


334  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

SECTION    II. 

EVIDEKCB-. 

Evidence,  the  material  of  proof,  is  furnished  directly  by 
our  own  senses  or  consciousness,  or  indirectly  (as  in  testi- 
mony, tradition,  or  documents)  through  the  senses  or  the 
consciousness  of  others. 

If  the  evidence  of  our  senses  were  confined  to  mere 
matters  of  fact,  it  would  be  more  trustworthy  than  it  is ; 
Matters  of  fact  but  iu  almost  all  that  we  see,  or  rather  say 
of  opinion.  that  we  see,  facts  are  mingled  with  inferences 
from  facts.  We  speak  of  seeing  an  orange,  for  example ; 
but  what  we  do  see  is  an  object  of  a  certain  shape  and 
color  which  experience  justifies  us  in  calling  an  orange. 
In  this  case,  fact  and  inference  seem  to  be  merged  in 
one.  That  they  are  not  one  is  proved  by  common 
experience :  we  often  imagine  that  we  see  what  we  do 
not  see.  A  yellow  ball,  for  example,  may  be  mistaken 
for  an  orange,  a  white  cloud  for  a  snow-capped  mountain, 
one  person  for  another,  one  sound  for  another.  In  such 
cases,  the  mistake  is  not  in  fact  but  in  inference  from 
fact:  what  seemed  a  matter  of  fact  turns  out  to  be 
a  matter  of  opinion.  The  difference  between  so-called 
matters  of  fact  and  so-called  matters  of  opinion  is,  then, 
a  difference  beween  matters  in  which  the  element  of  ob- 
served fact  preponderates  and  those  in  which  the  element 
of  inference  from  observed  fact  preponderates.  Some- 
times it  is  hard  to  tell  whether  what  we  are  speaking  of 
is  matter  of  fact  or  matter  of  opinion,  since  opinion  enters 
into  almost  all  statements  with  regard  to  matters  of  fact, 
and  since,  the  instant  a  reasonable  doubt  is  raised  coaceru- 


ARGUMENT.  335 

ing  a  so-called  matter  of  fact,  what  seemed  to  be  matter 
of  fact  becomes  matter  of   opinion. 

Large  as  is  the  proportion  of  inference  to  fact  in  the 
evidence  furnished  by  our  own  senses  or  con-  Evidence 

''  _  derived  from 

sciousness,  it   is  still   larger  in  the   evidence  testimony, 
furnished  through   the    senses    or   the    consciousness  of 
others,  —  that  is,  in  evidence  derived  from  testimony. 

The  admission  of  testimony  as  a  means  of  arriving  at 
fact  is  based  on  the  general  probability  that  men  will  say 
what  they  believe  to  be  true  rather  than  what  they  believe 
to  be  false  ;  but  this  general  probability,  though  it  consti- 
tutes the  ground  for  the  admission  of  testimony,  does  not 
supply  a  reason  for  believing  all  that  this  or  that  witness 
says.  Evidence  that  a  witness  has  lied  on  one  occasion 
tends  to  discredit  his  testimony  on  another.  Of  two 
eq^ually  honest  eye-witnesses  of  a  simple  occurrence,  one 
may  have  inferior  powers  of  observation,  which  make 
him  less  able  than  the  other  to  see  a  thing  clearly;  or 
inferior  knowledge  and  judgment,  which  make  him  less 
able  to  draw  correct  inferences  from  what  he  sees ;  or 
inferior  powers  of  expression,  which  make  him  less  able 
to  put  what  he  has  to  say  into  intelligible  language.  The 
value  of  a  man's  testimony  may,  moreover,  be  affected 
by  his  habitual  beliefs.  A  man  who  believes  that  spirits 
communicate  with  living  men  is  likely  to  see  or  to  hear 
what  he  conceives  to  be  a  spiritual  manifestation;  for 
he  is  in  a  condition  of  mind  which  inevitably  affects  his 
powers  of  observation  and  his  inferences  from  what  he 
observes.  Sslf-interest,  pride  of  opinion,  professional 
jealousy,  anythinij,  in  short,  that  affects  in  any  way  a 
man's  ability  to  speak  the  truth  on  a  particular  occasion, 
tends  in  some  degree  to  counterbalance  the  general  proba- 
bihty  that  he  will  speak  the  truth. 


336  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

In  some  classes  of  questions  the  intellectual  character 
of  a  witness  tells  for  more  than  in  others.  In  a  case  in- 
Testimony  of  volvuig  the  property  in  a  patent,  for  example, 
experts.  g^^  expert,  —  that  is,  a  person  specially  skilled 

in  any  subject  on  which  a  course  of  special  study  or  ex- 
perience is  necessary  to  the  formation  of  an  opinion,^  — 
may  be  the  only  valuable  witness  as  to  important  mat- 
ters at  issue.  It  is,  however,  to  be  noted  that  the  value 
of  the  testimony  of  an  expert  may  be  impaired  by  the 
fact  that  he  is  an  expert.  A  specialist  is  in  dan- 
ger of  seeing  things  through  the  distorting  glasses  of  a 
theory,  of  looking  at  them  from  a  professional  rather  than 
from  a  common-sense  point  of  view,  and  sometimes,  it  is  to 
be  feared,  of  unfairly  judging  the  work  of  a  rival.  Both  the 
value  of  expert  testimony  and  the  risk  attending  it  are 
shown  by  the  fact  that  whenever  such  testimony  is  intro- 
duced,—  whether  the  question  relates  to  a  prisoner's 
sanity,  to  the  authorship  of  a  letter,  or  to  the  infringe- 
ment of  a  patent,  —  experts  are  usually  called  to  support 
each  side  of  the  question. 

Akin  to  the  evidence  derived  from  the  testimony  of 
experts  is  that  derived  from  authority.  As  a  man  is  un- 
able to  investigate  for  himself  every  question 
Authority.  whenever  it  arises,  he  must  accept  the  conclu- 
sions reached  by  others  in  matters  of  which  they  are 
competent  judges.  These  conclusions  are  often  the  best 
e\'idence  within  reach:  they  are  the  conclusions  of  an 
expert. 

The  consequences  of  rejecting  authority  are  pointed 
out  in  the  following  passage  :  — 

"  Suppose  for  a  moment  a  community  of  which  each  member 
should  deliberately  set  himself  to  the  task  of  throwing  ofE  so  far 

1  See  Stephen's  "  Digest  of  the  Law  of  Evidence."  chap.  v.  art.  xlix. 


AKGUMENT.  337 

as  possible  all  prejudices  due  to  education;  where  each  should 
consider  it  his  duty  critically  to  examine  the  grounds  whereon 
rest  every  positive  enactment  and  every  moral  precept  which  he 
has  been  accustomed  to  obey ;  to  dissect  all  the  great  loyalties 
which  make  social  life  possible,  and  all  the  minor  conventions 
which  help  to  make  it  easy ;  and  to  weigh  out  with  scrupulous 
precision  the  exact  degree  of  assent  which  in  each  particular  case 
the  results  of  this  process  might  seem  to  justify.  To  say  that 
such  a  community,  if  it  acted  upon  the  opinions  thus  arrived  at, 
would  stand  but  a  poor  chance  in  the  struggle  for  existence  is  to 
say  far  too  little.  It  could  never  even  begin  to  be ;  and  if  by  a 
miracle  it  was  created,  it  would  without  doubt  immediately  resolve 
itself  into  its  constituent  elements."  ^ 

When  a  witness  testifies  against  his  own  prejudices  or 
interests,  the  value  of  his  testimony  is  increased.  Such 
is  the  testimony  of  a  physician  belonging  to  xjnwiiiing 
one  school  of  medicine  to  a  wonderful  cure  *^**""°"y- 
effected  by  a  physician  of  another  school ;  that  of  a  candi- 
date for  office  to  the  ability  or  the  integrity  of  his  oppo- 
nent ;  that  of  a  disbeliever  in  "  the  Darwinian  theory  "  to 
facts  that  go  to  support  that  theory.  Such  is  testimony 
against  the  best  friend  of  the  witness  or  in  favor  of  his 
greatest  enemy.  Such  is  testimony  to  the  existence  of  a 
will  the  effect  of  which  is  to  disinherit  the  witness. 

When  testimony  is  given  incidentally  its  value  is 
increased.  The  more  incidental  the  point  testified  to, 
the  more  oblique  an  allusion,  the  less  the  like-  undesigned 
lihood  of  a  falsehood ;  for  a  liar  rarely  takes  *«««'^°'>y- 
pains  with  the  small  points  of  his  story.  In  establishing 
an  historical  fact,  an  incidental  allusion  may  do  more 
than  a  direct  assertion  could  do ;  for  such  an  allusion  im- 
plies that  the  fact  alluded  to  was  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge. 

1  A.  J.  Balfour :  The  Foundations  of  Belief,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  i. 
15 


338  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

"  The  account  given  by  Herodotus,  of  Xerxes'  cutting  a  canal 
through  the  isthmus  of  Athos,  which  is  ridiculed  by  Juvenal,  is  much 
more  strongly  attested  by  Thucydides  in  an  incidental  mention 
of  a  place  '  near  which  some  remains  of  the  canal  might  be  seen,' 
than  if  he  had  distinctly  recorded  his  conviction  of  the  truth  of 
the  narrative."  ^ 

"As  an  advocate  was  pleading  the  cause  of  his  client  before 
one  of  the  praetors,  he  could  only  produce  a  single  witness  in  a 
point  where  the  law  required  the  testimony  of  two  persons  :  upon 
which  the  advocate  insisted  on  the  integrity  of  that  person  whom 
he  had  produced ;  but  the  prpetor  told  him,  that  where  the  law 
required  two  witnesses  he  would  not  accept  of  one,  though  it  were 
Cato  himself.  Such  a  speech  from  a  person  who  sat  at  the  head 
of  a  court  of  justice,  while  Cato  was  still  living,  shows  us,  more 
than  a  thousand  examples,  the  high  reputation  this  great  man 
had  gained  among  his  contemporaries  upon  the  account  of  his 
sincerity."  ^ 

"  Achilles,  we  are  told,  wept  while  the  funeral  pile  he  had 
erected  was  burning,  all  night  long,  the  bones  of  Fatroclos,  '  as 
a  father  weeps  when  he  burns  the  bones  of  his  youthful  son' 
(Iliad,  xxiii.  222-225).     This  testifies  to  a  general  practice."  ^ 

When  Dostoevsky  says  in  one  of  his  novels,  "  Evei-ything  in  the 
room  indicated  poverty  ;  there  were  not  even  curtains  to  the  bed,"  * 
he  shows  how  common  bed-curtains  are  in  Russia. 

Whenever  there  is  a  strong  probability  that  the  thing 
in  question  would  have  bean  mentioned  had  it  existed, 
Testimony  sileuce  tsnds  to  prove  its  non-existence.  Thus, 
of  silence.  ^^iQ  omisslou  froni  an  inventory  of  all  refer- 
ence to  a  valuable  piece  of  property  may,  where  other 
evidence  is  conflicting,  determine  the  question  of  owner- 
ship. An  example  of  evidence  furnished  by  siience  is 
given  in  the  following  passage :  — 

1  Whately  :  Elemfnts  of  Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  iv. 

2  The  Spectator,  No.  557. 

3  Gladstone  :  rref;\ce  to  Sclillemann's  "  Mycenoe." 

*  r^odor  Dostoevsky  :  Crime  and  Punishment,  part  ii.  chap.  iv. 


ARGUMENT.  339 

•'But  of  this  residence  [of  Bolingbroke]  at  Oxford  there  is  no 
proof  at  all.  There  is  no  entry  of  his  matriculation  on  the  books 
of  the  University,  and  these  books  are  not,  we  believe,  in  any  way 
deficient  during  the  period  of  his  supposed  connection  with  Ox- 
ford. There  is  no  trace  of  his  residence  at  Christ  Church  on  the 
Buttery  Lists,  and  the  Buttery  Lists  have  from  the  Midsummer  of 
1695  been  kept  with  scrupulous  exactness.  There  is  no  trace  of 
his  residence  to  be  found  in  the  entry  books  of  the  Dean.  We 
cannot  find  any  allusion  to  his  ever  having  been  a  resident  mem- 
ber of  the  University  in  the  correspondence  of  those  accomplished 
men  who  must  have  been  his  contemporaries.  But  one  circum- 
stance seems  to  us  conclusive.  He  was  the  patron  of  John  Philips, 
and  that  pleasing  poet  has  in  two  of  his  poems  spoken  of  him  in 
terms  of  exaggerated  encomium.  Philips  was  a  student  of  Christ 
Church,  and  in  his  'Cyder'  he  takes  occasion  to  celebrate  the 
eminent  men  connected  with  that  distinguished  seminary  ;  but 
though  he  mentions  Harcourt  and  Bromley,  he  makes  no  allusion 
to  St.  John."i 

The  independent  testimony  of  every  additional  witness 
strengthens  the  probability  that  any  statement  in  which 
all  agree  is  true ;  for,  in  cases  in  which  there  concurrent 
has  been  no  previous  concert,  it  is  more  likely  *^**""°''y- 
that  such  a  statement  is  true  than  that  the  agreement 
in  the  testimony  is  accidental.  The  testimony  of  every 
additional  witness,  moreover,  enlarges  the  surface  exposed 
to  attack,  and  consequently  increases  the  likelihood 
that  a  falsehood  on  the  part  of  any  witness  would  be 
detected. 

Evidence  derived  from  testimony  may  have  an  imme- 
diate bearing  on  the  question  at  issue,  or  it  may  relate  to 
some  circumstance  from  which    an   inference  Direct  aud 

.  ,  .  ,  circumEtantial 

may  be  drawn  that  has  a  bearmg  on  the  ques-  e%ideuce. 
tion  at  issue  ;  that  is,  evidence  may  be  either  direct  or 

1  John  Churton  Collins:  BoUcgbroke  and  Voltaire;  The  Political  Life 
of  Bolingbroke. 


340  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

circumstantial.  Of  the  distinction  between  the  two  no 
better  statement  can  be  found  than  that  made  by  Chief 
Justice  Shaw  in  his  charge  to  the  jury  at  the  trial  of  John 
W.  Webster:  — 

"  The  distinction,  then,  between  direct  and  circumstantial  evi- 
dence, is  this.  Direct  or  positive  evidence  is  when  a  witness  can 
be  called  to  testify  to  the  precise  fact  which  is  the  subject  of 
the  issue  in  trial;  that  is,  in  a  case  of  homicide,  that  the  party 
accused  did  cause  the  death  of  the  deceased.  Whatever  may  be 
the  kind  or  force  of  the  evidence,  this  is  the  fact  to  be  proved. 
But  suppose  no  person  was  present  on  the  occasion  of  the  death, 
and  of  course  no  one  can  be  called  to  testify  to  it,  —  is  it  wholly 
unsusceptible  of  legal  proof?  Experience  has  shown  that  circum- 
stantial evidence  may  be  offered  in  such  a  case  ;  that  is,  that  a  body 
of  facts  may  be  proved  of  so  conclusive  a  character  as  to  warrant 
a  firm  belief  of  the  fact,  quite  as  strong  and  certain  as  that  on 
which  discreet  men  are  accustomed  to  act  in  relation  to  their  most 
important  concerns.  .  .  . 

"  Each  of  these  modes  of  proof  has  its  advantages  and  disad- 
vantages ;  it  is  not  easy  to  compare  their  relative  value.  The 
advantage  of  positive  evidence  is,  that  you  have  the  direct  testi- 
mony of  a  witness  to  the  fact  to  be  proved,  who,  if  he  speaks 
the  truth,  saw  it  done ;  and  the  only  question  is,  whether  he  is 
entitled  to  belief?  The  disadvantage  is,  that  the  witness  may  be 
false  and  corrupt,  and  the  case  may  not  afford  the  means  of 
detecting  his  falsehood, 

"  But,  in  a  case  of  circumstantial  evidence  where  no  witness 
can  testify  du-ectly  to  the  fact  to  be  proved,  you  arrive  at  it  by  a 
series  of  other  facts,  which  by  experience  we  have  found  so  asso- 
ciated with  the  fact  in  question,  as  in  the  relation  of  cause  and 
effect,  that  they  lead  to  a  satisfactory  and  certain  conclusion  ;  as 
when  foot-prints  are  discovered  after  a  recent  snow,  it  is  certain 
that  some  animated  being  has  passed  over  the  snow  since  it  fell ; 
and,  from  the  form  and  number  of  the  foot-prints,  it  can  be  deter- 
mined with  equal  certainty,  whether  it  was  a  man,  a  bird,  or  a 
quadruped.  Circumstantial  evidence,  therefore,  is  founded  on 
experience  and  observed  facts  and  coincidences,  establishing  a  con- 
nection between  the  known  and  proved  facts  and  the  fact  sought 


ARGUMENT.  341 

to  be  proved.  The  advantages  are,  that,  as  the  evidence  commonly 
comes  from  several  witnesses  and  different  sources,  a  chain  of  cir- 
cumstances is  less  likely  to  be  falsely  prepared  and  arranged,  and 
falsehood  and  perjury  are  more  likely  to  be  detected  and  fail  of 
their  purpose.  The  disadvantages  are,  that  a  jury  has  not  only 
to  weigh  the  evidence  of  facts,  but  to  draw  just  conclusions  from 
them ;  in  doing  which,  they  may  be  led  by  prejudice  or  par- 
tiality, or  by  want  of  due  deliberation  and  sobriety  of  judgment, 
to  make  hasty  and  false  deductions ;  a  source  of  error  not  exist- 
ing in  the  consideration  of  positive  evidence."  ^ 


SEOTION  in. 

DEDUCTION   AND    INDUCTION. 

From  the  point  of  view  of  logic,  arguments  may  be 
classified  according  as  they  move  from  the  general  to 
the  specific, — deduction,^  —  or  from  the  specific  to  the 
general,  —  induction.^ 

A  simple  example  of  deduction  has  come  down  to 
us  from  Aristotle :  "  All  men  are  mortal,  Socrates  is  a 
man,  therefore  Socrates  is  mortal."     In  saying 

'  1  Deduction. 

that  "  all  men  are  mortal,"  we  assert  that  every 
member  of  a  class  designated  as  "men"  is  mortal;  in 
saying  that  "  Socrates  is  a  man,"  we  assert  that  Socrates 
belongs  to  the  class  designated  as  "  men ; "  in  saying  that 
"  Socrates  is  mortal,"  we  assert  that  what  we  have  said 
concerning  the  class  to  which  Socrates  belongs  is  true  of 
Socrates.  The  two  assertions  "  all  men  are  mortal "  and 
"Socrates  is  a  man  "  are  called  the  premisses ; ^  the  asser- 

1  Chief  Justice  Shaw,  in  the  case  of  John  W.  Webster,  indicted  for  the 
murder  of  George  Parkman.     Reported  by  George  Bemis. 

2  From  de,  from,  and  ducere,  to  lead. 
8  From  in,  into,  and  ducere,  to  lead. 

*  Praemissa,  from  prae,  before,  and  mtttere,  to  send  or  put. 


342  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

tion  deduced  from  the  premisses,  the  assertion  "  Socrates 
is  mortal,"  is  called  the  conclusion ;  ^  the  three  assertions 
taken  together  constitute  what  is  called  a  syllogism? 

In  every  valid  syllogism,  as  in  the  typical  example  just 
given,  the  conclusion  inevitably  follows  from  the  prem- 
isses; for  it  contains  nothing  that  is  not  in  the  premisses. 
In  saying  that  "  all  men  are  mortal "  and  that  "  Socrates  is 
a  man,"  we  say  by  implication  that  "  Socrates  is  mortal." 
The  statement  of  the  syllogism  in  full  enables  one  to 
see  clearly  the  premisses  from  which  the  conclusion 
is   deduced. 

A  deductive  argument  may  be  presented  in  various 
forms.     For  example :  — 

(1)  Laws  that  cannot  be  enforced  should  be  repealed ;  the  law 
prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  cannot  be  enforced ; 
this  law  should,  therefore,  be  repealed. 

(2)  If  laws  cannot  be  enforced,  they  should  be  repealed ;  the 
law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  cannot  be  en- 
forced ;  this  law  should,  therefore,  be  repealed. 

(3a)  Laws  that  cannot  be  enforced  should  be  repealed ;  the  law 
prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  should,  therefore,  be 
repealed. 

(3ft)  The  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  cannot 
be  enforced,  and  should,  therefore,  be  repealed. 

(3c)  The  law  prohibiting  the  sale  of  intoxicating  liquors  should 
be  repealed,  for  it  cannot  be  enforced. 

The  only  difference  between  syllogisms  (1)  and  (2)  is  in  the 
manner  of  stating  the  first  premiss;  in  (1)  the  assertion  con- 
cerning laws  that  cannot  be  enforced  rests  on  the  assumption 
that  such  laws  exist;  in  (2)  the  same  assertion  rests  on  the 
hypothesis  that  such  laws  exist,  —  that  is,  it  is  conditional. 
The  abridged  syllogisms  (3a),  (3ft),  and  (3c)  differ  from  (1)  and 

1  Conclusns,  from  con-,  together,  and  clandere,  to  close. 
*  IvWoyKTixos,  a  reckoning   all   together,  from   aiv,  together,   and 
Koyi^ecrQai,  to  reason. 


ARGUMENT.  343 

(2)  in  the  omission  of  the  second  premiss  from  (3a),  of  the  first 
premiss  from  (36)  and  (oc),  —  omissions  that  are  readily  supplied. 

A  syllogism  with  one  or  more  of  its  parts  suppressed,  as 
(3a),  {3b),  or  (3c)  in  the  example  just  given,  is  called  an 
enthymeme}  In  practical  life  reasoning  is  usually  con- 
ducted in  this  abridged  form.     For  example :  — 

The  income  tax  is  unequal  in  its  operation ;  therefore,  it  cannot 
last. 

The  income  tax  is  justifiable,  for  it  tends  to  diminish  inequality 
in  the  distribution  of  ^Yealth. 

"  Robinson  Crusoe  "  must  be  an  allegory,  for  Defoe  says  it  is. 

"Robinson  Crusoe"  must  be  a  true  story,  everything  is  so 
minutely  described. 

Greek,  being  a  dead  language,  is  of  no  use  to  living  men. 

As  Greek  literature  is  the  source  of  what  is  best  in  modern  liter- 
ature, knowledge  of  it  is  an  essential  part  of  a  liberal  education. 

A  college  student  should  be  free  to  choose  his  studies,  for  he 
can  profit  by  no  study  which  he  is  forced  to  pursue. 

Certain  studies  every  college  student  should  pursue,  for  they  are 
the  foundations  of  culture. 

The  wearing  of  high  hats  at  the  theatre  should  be  forbidden  by 
law,  for  high  hats  are  a  nuisance  to  short  men. 

A  law  prohibiting  the  wearing  of  high  hats  at  the  theatre  is 
restrictive  of  liberty,  and  laws  restrictive  of  liberty  are  impolitic. 

"  In  a  rude  state  of  society,  men  are  children  with  a  greater 
variety  of  ideas.  It  is  therefore  in  such  a  state  of  society  that 
we  may  expect  to  find  the  poetical  temperament  in  its  highest 
perfection."  ^ 

1  'EvdifxTifxa,  from  4v9vfie7(T9ai,  to  keep  in  mind,  consider,  infer ;  from 
ip,  in.  and  9ufi6s,  mind.  For  tlip  history  of  the  change  in  meaning  which 
this  word  has  undergone,  see  Murray's  "  New  English  Dictionary. '  aud 
De  Quincey's  essay  on  "  Rhetoric." 

2  Macaulay  :  Essays ;  Milton. 


344  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

"  If  he  has  never  been  on  a  quest  for  buried  treasure,  it  can  be 
demonstrated  that  he  has  never  been  a  child."  ^ 

"  It  is  well  known  that  most  students  ai'e  at  a  disadvantage  in 
attacking  any  subject,  because  their  minds  are  untrained."  ^ 

"The  law  was  unconstitutional  also,  counsel  averred,  for  the 
reason  that  it  was  class  legislation."  * 

"  When  it  [the  new  German  constitution]  was  first  published, 
the  London  Times  remarked,  in  all  seriousness,  that  it  was  suffi 
ciently  illogical  to  justify  the  hope  that  it  would  work  well."* 

" '  Why  is  our  food  so  very  sweet  ? 
Because  we  earn  before  we  eat.' "  ^ 

The  principal  fallacies  of  deductive  argument  are  leg- 
FaUaciesof  5'*'^^  ^^^^  qu6stio7i,  technically  known  as  2^<^iii'io 
deduction.  princijpH,  and  arguing  beside  the  point,  techni- 
cally known  as  ignoratio  elenchi.^ 

To  beg  the  question  is  to  deduce  a  conclusion  from 
Begging  the  ^^  assuuied  premiss  and  then  to  use  the  con- 
question.  clusiou  SO  rcachcd  as  proof  of  the  proposition 
originally  assumed.  The  nature  of  this  fallacy  (often 
called  "arguing  in  a  circle")  may  be  learned  from  the 
following  anecdote:  — 

A  woman,  on  seeing  a  very  small  porringer,  said  to  a  child, 
"  That  must  have  been  the  little  wee  bear's  porringer,  it  is  so 
small,"  and  then  added,  "  He  must  have  been  smaller  than  we 
thought,  must  n't  he  ?  "  To  assume  that  the  bear  was  very  small 
in  order  to  prove  that  the  porringer  was  his,  and  then  from  the 
fact  that  the  porringer  is  small  to  infer  that  the  bear  must  have 
been  very  small,  is,  manifestly,  to  beg  the  question. 

'  R.  L.  Stevenson  :  Memories  and  Portraits ;  A  Humble  Remonstrance. 
2  Charles  Dudley  Warner.     Harper's  Magazine,  March,  1895,  p.  645. 
8  Report  of  W.  D.  Guthrie's  argument  before  the  United  States  Su- 
preme Court  in  the  income-tax  cases:  The  Boston  Herald,  March  8,  1895 
<  The  [New  York]  Nation,  March  14,  1895,  p.  205. 
**  Nathaniel  Cotton  :  Fables ;  The  Bee,  the  Ant,  and  the  Sparrow. 
*  Literally,  "  ignoring  tlie  refutation." 


ARGUMENT.  345 

Another  example  is  given  by  Stephen :  — 

"  A  ship  is  cast  away  under  such  circumstances  that  her  loss  may 
be  accounted  for  either  by  fraud  or  by  accident.  The  captain  is 
tried  for  making  away  with  her.  A  variety  of  circumstances  exist 
which  would  indicate  preparation  and  expectation  on  his  part  if 
the  ship  really  was  made  away  with,  but  which  would  justify  no 
suspicion  at  all  if  she  was  not.  It  is  manifestly  illogical,  first,  to 
regard  the  antecedent  circumstances  as  suspicious,  because  the  loss 
of  the  ship  is  assumed  to  be  fraudulent,  and,  next,  to  infer  that  the 
ship  was  fraudulently  destroyed  from  the  suspicious  character  of 
the  antecedent  circumstances."  ^ 

A  single  word  may  involve  a  begging  of  the  ques- 
tion. Disbelievers  in  Mr.  Bellamy's  view  of  the  future 
beg  the  question  when  they  speak  of  his  Question- 
"  Utopia ; "  for  Utopia  is  understood  to  mean  w'ifrdT.^ 
an  unattainable  ideal.  An  English  journal  declares  that 
Mr.  Leslie  Stephen  uses  a  "  question-begging  epithet " 
when  he  calls  Tito  Melema  a  "  feminine  "  character.  In 
the  title  of  Mill's  essay  on  "  The  Subjection  of  Women," 
the  word  "  subjection "  begs  the  question  by  assuming 
that  the  present  condition  of  woman  is  one  of  subjec- 
tion to  man,  —  a  point  to  be  proved.  The  title  of  Dr. 
Bushnell's  work  on  woman  suffrage  —  "  The  Eeform 
against  Nature"  —  begs  the  question  by  assuming  that 
the  proposed  reform  is  "against  nature."  Those  who 
deem  the  game  of  foot-ball  an  important  means  of  physi- 
cal education  maintain  that  those  who  call  the  game 
"brutal"  beg  the  question  by  applying  to  the  game  itself 
an  epithet  deserved  by  some  players.  The  following 
instance  of  question-begging  is  given  by  Bentham :  — 

"Take,  for  example,  improvement  and  innovation:  under  its  own 
name,  to  pass  censure  on  any  improvement  might  be  too  bold  : 

1  Sir  James  Fitzjames  Stephen :  Introduction  to  the  Indian  Evidence 
Act,  chap.  ii. 

15* 


346  KDsDS  OF  COMPOSITION, 

applied  to  such  an  object,  any  expressions  of  censure  you  could 
employ  might  lose  their  force;  employing  them,  you  would  seern 
to  be  running  on  in  the  track  of  self-contradiction  and  nonsense. 

"  But  improvement  means  something  new,  and  so  does  innovalion. 
Happily  for  your  purpose,  m;joi;a//on  has  contracted  a  bad  sense; 
it  means  something  which  is  new  and  bad  at  the  same  time. 
Improvement,  it  is  true,  in  indicating  something  ne\^,  indicates 
something  good  at  the  same  time;  and  therefore,  if  the  thing  in 
question  be  good  as  well  as  new,  innovation  is  not  a  proper  term 
for  it.  However,  as  the  idea  of  novelly  was  the  only  idea  originally 
attached  to  the  term  innovation,  and  the  only  one  which  is 
directly  expressed  in  the  etymology  of  it,  you  may  still  venture  to 
employ  the  word  innovation,  since  no  man  can  readily  and  imme- 
diately convict  your  appellation  of  being  an  improper  one  upon  the 
face  of  it. 

"  With  the  appellation  thus  chosen  for  the  purpose  of  passing 
condemnation  on  the  measure,  he  by  whom  it  has  been  brought  to 
view  in  the  character  of  an  improvement,  is  not  (it  is  true)  very 
hkely  to  be  well  satisfied  :  but  of  this  you  could  not  have  had  any 
expectation.  What  you  want  is  a  pretence  which  your  own  par- 
tisans can  lay  hold  of,  for  the  purpose  of  deducing  from  it  a 
colourable  warrani  for  passing  upon  the  improvement  that  censure 
which  you  are  determined,  and  they,  if  not  determined,  are  dis- 
posed and  intend  to  pass  on  it. 

"  Of  this  instrument  of  deception,  the  potency  is  most  deplor- 
able."! 

Not  only  should  we  avoid  the  question-begging  fallacy 
in  our  own  arguments,  but  we  should  be  on  the  watch 
for  it  in  the  arguments  of  those  whose  conclusions  we 
oppose.  If  we  can  show  that  a  so-called  argument  is 
mere  a.ssumption,  —  and  this  we  can  often  do  by  stating 
it  in  syllogistic  form,  —  we  have  done  all  that  is  necessary 
for  its  refutation. 

To  argue  beside  the  point  ^  is  to  try  to  prove  some- 
thing which  is  not  the  proposition  in  dispute,  but  which 

1  Jeremy  Bentham  :  The  Book  of  Fallacies,  part  iv.  chap.  i. 
'  See  page  .344. 


ARGUMENT.  347 

the  reasoner  cither  mistakes  lor  it  or  wishes  others  to 
mistake  for  it.  To  prove  a  man's  cleverness  AtKiiinK 
as  a  writer  when  the  question  is  whether  the  point, 
he  has  business  ability,  to  prove  a  man's  success  as 
a  soldier  when  the  (question  is  whether  he  has  ability 
in  civil  alTairs,  to  prove  a  man's  gift  for  extemporane- 
ous speaking  when  the  (jnostion  is  whether  he  is  a  states- 
man, is  to  argue  beside  the  point. 

The  variety  of  this  fallacy  known  as  argumenium  ad 
hominem  and  that  known  as  nrgumeiUum  ad  populum 
are  thus  explained  by  Professor  Jevons :  — 

"  All  atLonicy  for  l\w  (Icfcmhuil.  in  a  lawsuit  is  said  to  havo 
handed  to  the  barrister  liis  brioL'  marked  '  No  case ;  abuse  tlio  plain- 
tiff's  attorney.'  Whoever  tluis  uses  what  is  known  as  (injiiiiicuiinn 
ail  fioininem,  that  is,  an  argument  which  rests,  not  upon  the  merit  of 
the  case,  but  the  character  or  position  of  those  engaged  in  it,  com- 
mits this  fallacy  [lliat  of  arguing  beside  the  point].  Jf  a  man  is 
accused  of  a  crime  it  is  no  answer  to  say  that  the  prosecutor  is  as 
bad.  If  agreat  change  in  llu'  law  is  jiroposed  in  Parliament,  it  is  an 
Irrelevant  Conclusion  to  argue  that  tlu!  proposer  is  not  the  right 
man  to  bring  it  forward.  Kvin-y  one  who  gives  advice  lays 
himself  open  to  the  retort  that  he  who  ))reaclies  ought  to  prac- 
tise, or  that  those  who  Iiv(>  in  glass  houses  ought  not  to  throw  atones. 
Nevertheless  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between  the  charac- 
ter of  th(>  person  giving  advi(re  and  the  goodness  of  the  advice. 

"Tlie  wf/ amentum  ad  pojmlum  is  anotlufr  form  of  Irrelevant 
Conclusion,  and  consists  ii\  addressing  arguments*  to  a  body  of 
people  calculatetl  to  excite  their  feelings  and  prcvcnl^  llieui  from 
forming  a  dispassionate^  judgment  n])on  the  matter  in  Iiiind.  It 
is  the  great  weapon  of  rlu'torieiivns  ;ind  demagogues.'"^ 

A  subthi  form  of  arguing  beside  the  point  is  the 
30-call(Ml  "  fallacy  of  confusion,"  which  consists  in 
using  a   term   in    one   sense   in   one    ])art   of    the   argu* 

*  Query  as  to  the  |)ositir)ii  of  tins  word. 

*  W.  S.  Jevons  :  Eloinoutary  Lessons  in  Logic,  lesson  xxi. 


348  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

ment  and  in  another  sense  in  another  part.  Some  falla- 
cies of  this  sort  are  nothing  but  verbal  puzzles,  which, 
however  useful  in  sharpening  the  wits  of  students  of  logic, 
have  no  place  in  a  treatise  on  rhetoric.  Others  are  too 
dangerous  to  be  passed  by  without  notice.  Such  are 
those  mentioned  by  Mill  in  the  following  passage :  — 

"  The  mercantile  public  are  frequently  led  into  this  fallacy  by 
the  phrase  'scarcity  of  money.'  In  the  language  of  commerce, 
'money'  has  two  meanings  :  currency,  or  the  circulating  medium; 
and  capital  seeking  investment,  especially  investment  on  loan.  In 
this  last  sense,  the  word  is  used  when  the  '  money  market '  is 
spoken  of,  and  when  the  '  value  of  money '  is  said  to  be  high  or 
low,  the  rate  of  interest  being  meant.  The  consequence  of  this 
ambiguity  is,  that  as  soon  as  scarcity  of  money  in  the  latter  of 
these  senses  begins  to  be  felt,  —  as  soon  as  there  is  difficulty  of 
obtaining  loans,  and  the  rate  of  interest  is  high,  —  it  is  con- 
cluded that  this  must  arise  from  causes  acting  upon  the  quan- 
tity of  money  in  the  other  and  more  popular  sense ;  that  the 
circulating  medium  must  have  diminished  in  quantity,  or  ought 
to  be  increased.  I  am  aware  that,  independently  of  the  double 
meaning  of  the  term,  there  are  in  the  facts  themselves  some  pecu- 
liarities, giving  an  apparent  support  to  this  error ;  but  the  ambi- 
guity of  the  language  stands  on  the  very  threshold  of  the  subject, 
and  intercepts  all  attempts  to  throw  light  upon  it. 

"  Another  word  which  is  often  turned  into  an  instrument  of 
the  fallacy  of  ambiguity  is  theory.  In  its  most  ^  proper  acceptation, 
theory  means  the  completed  result  of  philosophical  induction 
from  experience.  In  that  sense,  there  are  erroneous  as  well  as 
true  theories,  for  induction  may  be  incorrectly  performed;  but 
theory  of  some  sort  is  the  necessary  result  of  knowing  any  thing 
of  a  subject,  and  having  put  one's  knowledge  into  the  form  of 
general  propositions  for  the  guidance  of  practice.  In  this,  the 
proper  sense  of  the  word,  theory  is  the  explanation  of  practice. 
In  another  and  a  more  vulgar  sense,  theory  means  any  mere  fic- 
tion of  the  imagination,  endeavouring  to  conceive  how  a  thing 

1  See  pages  158,  159. 


ARGUMENT.  349 

may  possibly  have  been  produced,  instead  of  examining  how  it 
was  produced.  In  this  sense  only  are  theory  and  theorists  unsafe 
guides.^ 

Another  example  may  be  taken  from  a  recent  work  on 
education :  — 

" '  Who  rules  o'er  freemen  should  himself  be  free '  is  a  good 
line  and  a  sound  maxim,  surviving  the  attack  made  on  it  by  the 
parodist ;  2  yet  it  will  not  pass  muster  as  an  argument.  '  Free- 
men '  is  used  in  a  political  sense,  and  political  freedom  is  different 
from  natural  freedom  or  moral  freedom.  In  plain  prose,  the 
ruler  of  freemen  should  be  restrained  by  law,  or  else  their  free- 
dom is  at  the  mercy  of  his  caprice ;  but  if  restrained  by  law,  he 
does  not  seem  at  first  sight  to  be  free.  Yet  the  line  is  a  good 
one  in  spirit ;  for  the  second  '  free '  may  be  taken  to  mean  free- 
hearted or  free  from  passion  —  morally  free,  in  fact.  Such  a  play 
upon  words  is  ornamental,  and  need  not  be  illusory ;  but  it  ought 
not  to  pass  unchallenged." ^ 

The  generalizations  from  which  we  reason  in  deduction 
are  themselves  the  products  of  induction.  Thus,  the 
general  assertion  that  all  men  are  mortal,  which 
forms  the  first  premiss  in  our  typical  example 
of  deductive  reasoning,*  is  itself  derived  from  known 
instances  of  death.  The  general  assertion,  however, 
goes  much  further  than  the  particulars  on  which  it  is 
based,  for  it  includes  not  only  all  men  who  have  died 
but  all  who  live.  So,  too,  the  conclusion  that,  because 
the  law  of  gravitation  holds  true  in  relation  to  all  the 
bodies  we  know,  it  also  holds  true  throughout  the  phy- 
sical universe,  is  more  than  the  sum  of  the  particulars 
known.      Induction,  then,  adds  to  our  knowledge ;    but 

^  J.  S.  Mill :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  v.  chap.  vii.  sect.  i. 
2  "  Who  drives  fat  oxeu  should  himself  be  fat." 

8  W.  Johnson :    On  the   Education   of  the  Reasoning  Faculties ;    is 
"  Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education,"  edited  by  F.  W.  Farrar,  essay  viii. 
*  See  page  341. 


350  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  knowledge  so  added  is  to  a  certain  extent  guess-work, 
for  it  rests  on  the  supposition  that  what  is  true  of  all 
known  members  of  a  class  is  true  of  all  unknown 
members  of  the  same  class. 

An  induction  based  on  observation  of  all  individuals  of 
a  class  is  beyond  question ;  for  in  such  an  induction  the 
Induction        general  conclusion  can  be  nothing  but  the  sum 

based  on  catisal       „      ,  .       ,  i  t       •       i 

connection.  of  the  particulars  enumerated,  it  is,  how- 
ever, rarely  possible  to  observe  all  individuals  of  a 
class.  The  next  best  thing  is  to  base  an  inference 
from  the  known  to  the  unknown  on  an  argument  de- 
rived from  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect.  A  familiar 
example  is  the  induction  that  where  there  is  smoke  there 
is  fire.  The  strength  of  the  argument  lies  in  the  causal 
connection  between  fire  and  smoke.  In  the  absence  of 
knowledge  of  a  causal  connection  an  inductive  argument 
has  little  force.  Thus,  it  has  been  asserted  that  animals 
which  ruminate  have  cloven  hoofs  ;  but  science  has  not 
discovered  a  connection  between  rumination  and  cloven 
hoofs.  If  a  new  ruminant  should  be  found,  one  might 
infer  that  it  would  have  cloven  hoofs;  but  in  the 
absence  of  knowledge  of  a  causal  connection,  and  in  face 
of  the  fact  that  some  animals  with  cloven  hoofs  (pigs  and 
tapirs,  for  example)  are  not  ruminants,  such  an  inference 
would  have  little  force. 

The  fallacy  which  the  inductive  reasoner  needs  to  guard 
against  is  that  of  inferring  a  general  conclusion  from  in- 
Faiiacies  of  stances  SO  few  or  so  unimportant  as  not  to  war- 
induction.  -[SiTit  that  couclusion,  and  of  ignoring  instances 
that  make  against  it.  From  this  fallacy  few  books  of 
travel  are  altogether  exempt,  so  strong  is  the  temptation  to 
found  a  general  statement  on  a  few  superficial  and  detached 
observations.     Every  partisan,  every  bigot,  every  person 


ARGUMENT.  351 

dominated  by  a  fixed  idea  of  any  kind,  is  in  danger  of 
jumping  from  an  insufficient  number  of  special  instances 
that  favor  his  view  to  a  general  assertion  which  might  be 
met  by  special  instances  that  favor  the  opposite  view. 

A  singular  instance  of  induction  unwarranted  by  the 
facts  on  which  it  is  based  is  furnished  by  the  comment 
of  a  recent  writer  on  a  passage  whicli  he  quotes  from 
Defoe's  "  Serious  Reflections."  The  passage  begins,  "  I 
have  heard  of  a  man,  that,  upon  some  extraordinary  dis- 
gust which  he  took  at  the  unsuitable  conversation  of 
some  of  his  nearest  relations,  whose  societv  he  could  not 
avoid,  suddenly  resolved  never  to  speak  any  more."  This 
resolve,  as  Defoe  goes  on  to  show,  the  man  kept, 
with  disastrous  results,  nearly  twenty-nine  years.  The 
comment  referred  to  is  as  follows  :  — 

"  That  the  paragraph  had  reference  to  Defoe  is  evident  from  the 
opening  sentence ;...'!  have  heard  of  a  man,'  '  I  know  a  man,' 
and  the  like,  being  favorite  prologues  of  Defoe's  when  he  was 
about  to  introduce  bits  of  personal  history."  ^ 

The  conclusion  that  Defoe  always  meant  himself  when  he  said 
"I  have  heard  of  a  man,"  "  I  know  a  man,"  etc.,  is  unwarranted. 

A  variety  of  this  fallacy  is  that  which  consists  in  as- 
suming a  causal  connection  where  none  exists,  in  arguing 
that  because  one  thing  follows  another  it  is  caused  by  that 
other,  —  the  fallacy  technically  known  as  post  hoc,  propter 
hoc.  In  the  Middle  Ages  most  people  supposed  that 
eclipses  and  comets  caused  disasters  of  various  sorts ;  and 
even  in  our  own  day  some  half-educated  persons  believe 
that  changes  of  the  moon  cause  clianges  in  the  weather, 
that  the  equinoxes  cause  "equinoctial  storms,"  that  ihe 
presence  of  thirteen  at  table  causes  the  subsequent  death 
of  one  of  the  number.  The  fallacy  in  question  is  not, 
1  Thomas  Wright :  The  Life  of  Daniel  Defoe,  chap.  ii. 


352  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

however,  confined  to  the  half-educated,  as  those  who 
follow  the  course  of  medical  and  political  discussions 
are  aware.  Some  examples  are  given  in  a  recent  article 
by  President  Eliot :  — 

"  Many  popular  delusions  are  founded  on  the  commonest  of 
fallacies  —  this  preceded  that,  therefore  this  caused  that ;  or  in 
shorter  phrase,  what  preceded,  caused.  For  example  :  I  was  sick  ; 
I  took  such  and  such  a  medicine  and  became  well ;  therefore  the 
medicine  cured  me.  During  the  Civil  War  the  Government  issued 
many  millions  of  paper  money,  and  some  men  became  very  rich  ; 
therefore  the  way  to  make  all  men  richer  must  be  to  issue  from 
the  Government  presses  an  indefinite  amount  of  paper  money. 
.  .  .  Bessemer  steel  is  much  cheaper  now  than  it  was  twenty  years 
ago ;  there  has  been  a  tariff  tax  on  Bessemer  steel  in  the  United 
States  for  the  past  twenty  years ;  therefore  the  tax  cheapened 
the  steel.  England,  France,  and  Germany  are  civilized  and  pros- 
perous nations ;  they  have  enormous  public  debts ;  therefore  a 
public  debt  is  a  public  blessing.  He  must  carry  Ithuriel's  spear 
and  wear  stout  armor  who  can  always  expose  and  resist  this 
fallacy."! 

Since  deduction  uses  as  preinisses  the  generalizations 
made  by  induction,  it  furnishes  a  valuable  means  of  test- 
connection  i^g  ^lic  Validity  of  tlicsc  generalizations  by 
ducIuTiTand  '"applying  them  to  particular  cases.  If  a  gen- 
eralization so  used  turns  out  to  be  false,  a 
new  premiss  may  be  provided  by  induction. 

In  all  reasoning  it  is  usual  to  combine  the  inductive 
with  the  deductive  method ;  but  whereas  the  trained  rea- 
induction        soner  can,  if  he  chooses,  analyze  his  processes 

and  deduc-  . 

tion  combined,  of  thouglit,  the  untraiucd  reasoner  goes  from 
one  method  to  the  other  without  knowing  what  he  is 
doing.      That  there  is,  however,  no  essential  difference 

1  Charles  W.  Eliot :  Wherein  Popular  Education  has  Failed.  The 
Forum,  December,  1892,  j).  424.  See  also  Mill's  "System  of  Logic," 
book  V.  chap.  v.  sect.  v. 


ARGUMENT.  353 

between   scientific   and   unscientific   processes,  Professor 
Huxley  makes  clear  in  the  following  passages :  — 

"Scientific  reasoning  differs  from  ordinary  reasoning  in  just 
the  same  way  as  scientific  observation  and  experiment  differ  from 
ordinary  observation  and  experiment  —  that  is  to  say,  it  strives  to 
be  accurate ;  and  it  is  just  as  hard  to  reason  accurately  as  it  is  to 
observe  accurately. 

"  In  scientific  reasoning  general  rules  are  collected  from  the 
observation  of  many  particular  cases;  and,  when  these  general 
rules  are  established,  conclusions  are  deduced  from  them,  just  as 
in  every-day  life.  K  a  boy  says  that  '  marbles  are  hard,'  he  has 
drawn  a  conclusion  as  to  marbles  in  general  from  the  marbles  he 
happens  to  have  seen  and  felt,  and  has  reasoned  in  that  mode 
which  is  technically  termed  induction.  If  he  declines  to  try  to 
break  a  marble  with  his  teeth,  it  is  because  he  consciously,  or  un- 
consciously, performs  the  converse  operation  of  deduction  from 
the  general  rule  '  marbles  are  too  hard  to  break  with  one's  teeth.' "  * 

"The  vast  results  obtained  by  Science  are  won  by  no  mys- 
tical faculties,  by  no  mental  processes,  other  than  those  which  are 
practised  by  every  one  of  us,  in  the  humblest  and  meanest  affairs 
of  life.  A  detective  policeman  discovers  a  burglar  from  the  marks 
made  by  his  shoe,  by  a  mental  process  identical  with  that  by 
which  Cuvier  restored  the  extinct  animals  of  Montmartre  from 
fragments  of  their  bones.  Nor  does  that  process  of  induction  and 
deduction  by  which  a  lady,  finding  a  stain  of  a  peculiar  kind  upon 
her  dress,  concludes  that  somebody  has  upset  the  inkstand  thereon, 
differ  in  any  way,  in  kind,  from  that  by  which  Adams  and  Lever- 
rier  discovered  a  new  planet. 

"The  man  of  science,  in  fact,  simply  uses  with  scrupulous 
exactness  the  methods  which  we  all,  habitually  and  at  every 
moment,  use  carelessly."  ^ 

^  Huxley:  Introductory  Science  Primer. 

2  Ibid. :  Lay  Sermons ;  On  the  Educational  Value  of  the  Natural 
History   Sciences. 


354  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

SECTION  IV. 

ANTECEDENT    PROBABILITY,    EXAMPLE,    SIGN. 

The  classification  of  arguments  as  deductive  and  induc- 
tive, though  primarily  useful  to  a  student  of  logic,  is  not 
Three  classes    witliout  valuc  to  a  studcut  of  rhctoric,  since  it 

of  arguments.     ^^^^^    j^-^    ^^    ^^^^    ^j^^    Validity    of    his    OWU    OT 

another's  reasoning.  A  classification  more  convenient 
for  our  purposes  is  that  which  distinguishes  arguments 
according  to  the  sources  from  which  they  come,  —  accord- 
ing as  they  are  derived  (1)  from  the  relation  of  cause  to 
effect,  (2)  from  the  resemblance  which  persons  or  things 
bear  to  one  another  in  certain  particulars  or  under  cer- 
tain aspects,  (3)  from  the  association  of  ideas.  Arguments 
of  the  first  class  are  called  arguments  from  antecedent 
PROBABILITY ;  those  of  the  second  class,  arguments  from 
EXAMPLE ;  those  of  the  third  class,  arguments  from  sign. 
No  form  of  argument  is  in  more  frequent  use  than  the 

Argument  from     argument       frOm       ANTECEDENT      PROBABILITY. 

probability.  Tliis  argument  is  employed  in  reasoning 
either  from  the  present  to  the  future,  or  from  the  past  to 
the  present  or  the  future. 

We  argue  from  antecedent  probability  that  the  su- 
perior skill  which  has  enabled  a  base-ball  nine  to  win 
successive  victories  will  enable  it  to  win  again ;  that 
a  habit  (bad  or  good)  once  formed  will  continue ;  that 
a  national  peculiarity  which  has  been  shown  in  military 
affairs  will  be  shown  in  civil  affairs  when  opportunity 
arises.  Shrewd  observers  of  the  condition  of  things  in 
France  in  the  middle  of  the  eighteenth  century  argued 
from   antecedent  probability  that  a   revolution  was   at 


ARGUMENT.  355 

hand.  Statesmen  who  had  studied  the  English  char- 
acter and  the  course  of  events  in  the  American  colonies 
anticipated,  long  before  (antecedently  to)  the  actual 
struggle,  that  there  would  be  a  conflict  between  those 
colonies  and  the  mother  country.  A  few  far-seeing 
Americans  anticipated  before  Fort  Sumter  was  fired  upon 
that  there  would  be  an  attempt  to  separate  the  slave 
States  from  the  free.  Any  one  who  knew  the  Puritan 
character  might  have  foreseen  very  early  in  the  seven- 
teenth century  that  if  the  Puritans  came  into  power 
they  would  close  the  theatres.  A  student  of  English 
literature  might  have  foreseen  that  the  Elizabethan  era 
would  be  characterized  by  the  predominance  of  the 
drama;  and  this  general  probability  would  have  been 
strengthened  by  the  special  probability  furnished  by 
Queen  Elizabeth's  liking  for  the  theatre  combined  with 
her  love  of  the  classics.  In  each  of  these  cases,  the  argu- 
ment from  antecedent  probability  is  a  means  of  inferring 
what  is  likely  to  be  from  what  is  or  from  what  has  been. 
The  argument  rests  on  the  generally-accepted  belief  that 
certain  causes  tend  to  produce  certain  effects,  that  what 
Matthew  Arnold  calls  "the  stream  of  tendency"  will 
continue  to  flow  in  the  direction  once  taken. 

The  argument  from  antecedent  probability  is  also  used 
as  a  means  of  accounting  for  what  has  already  hap- 
pened. A  reasoner,  assuming  a  proposition  to  be  true, 
tries  to  show  how  it  probably  came  to  be  true.  If  a  loaf 
of  bread  which  had  been  within  reach  of  a  starving  man 
were  to  disappear,  an  argument  that  the  starving  man 
was  the  thief  might  be  based  on  knowledge  of  the  fact 
that  he  was  starving ;  for  experience  shows  that  a  starv- 
ing man  is  likely  to  lay  hands  on  anything  eatable 
that  comes  in  his  way.     This  probability  existed  before 


356  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  disappearance  of  the  loaf :  the  cause  was  in  oper- 
ation before  the  occurrence  of  that  which  had  to  be 
accounted  for.  In  accounting,  then,  for  what  has  already 
happened,  as  well  as  in  inferring  what  is  likely  to  hap- 
pen, the  argument  rests  on  the  probability  that  certain 
causes  will  produce  certain  effects.  An  argument  of 
this  class  is  used  by  Mr.  Galton  to  prove  that  there  was 
a  larger  proportion  of  color-blind  men  among  the  original 
Quakers  than  among  the  people  from  whom  they  separated 
themselves :  — 

"  I  may  take  this  oppoi'tunity  of  remarking  on  the  well-known 
hereditary  character  of  colour  blindness  in  connection  with  the 
fact,  that  it  is  nearly  twice  as  prevalent  among  the  Quakers  as 
among  the  rest  of  the  community,  the  proportions  being  as  5.9  to 
3.5  per  cent.  We  might  have  expected  an  even  larger  ratio. 
Nearly  every  Quaker  is  descended  on  both  sides  solely  from  mem- 
bers of  a  group  of  men  and  women  who  segregated  themselves 
from  the  rest  of  the  world  five  or  six  generations  ago ;  one  of  their 
strongest  opinions  being  that  the  fine  arts  were  worldly  snares, 
and  their  most  conspicuous  practice  being  to  dress  in  drabs.  A 
born  artist  could  never  have  consented  to  separate  himself  from 
his  fellows  on  such  grounds ;  he  would  have  felt  the  profession  of 
those  opinions  and  their  accompanying  practices  to  be  a  treason  to 
his  aesthetic  nature.  Consequently  few  of  the  original  stock  of 
Quakers  are  likely  to  have  had  the  temperament  that  is  associated 
with  a  love  for  colour,  and  it  is  in  consequence  most  reasonable  to 
believe  that  a  larger  proportion  of  colour-blind  men  would  have 
been  found  among  them  than  among  the  rest  of  the  population."  i 

The  argument  from  antecedent  probability  is  used  by 
Use  of  ante-  the  man  of  science  when  he  frames  a  hypoth- 
bntryby""'''^  esis  to  account  for  a  phenomenon  hitherto 
science,  unexplained.      It  was  by  this  argument  that 

Newton   accounted    for   the   fall    of   an    apple   from    a 

1  Francis  Galton  :  Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty  and  its  Develop 
ment ;  Unconsciousness  of  Peculiarities. 


ARGUMENT.  357 

tree  when  he  framed  the  hypothesis  which  has  led  to 
what  we  call  the  law  of  gravitation.  It  was  by  this 
arsfument  that  Darwin  accounted  for  certain  observed 
facts  when  he  framed  the  hypothesis  that  "  natural  selec- 
tion" explains  "the  survival  of  the  fittest."  It  was  an 
argument  of  this  sort  which  led  to  the  discovery  of  argon. 
The  fact  that  the  nitrogen  obtained  from  chemical  com- 
pounds is  lighter  than  atmospheric  nitrogen  raised  an 
antecedent  probability  that  the  latter  contained  some 
element  other  than  nitrogen.  This  probability  was 
strengthened  by  a  series  of  experiments  that  resulted  in 
the  separation  from  atmospheric  nitrogen  of  a  gas 
hitherto  unknown,  which  the  discoverer  has  named 
arson.i  Further  evidence  was  derived  from  the  fact  that 
similar  experiments  with  chemical  nitrogen  yielded  only 
a  very  small  amount  of  the  new  gas,  so  small  that  it 
might  have  leaked  in  from  the  atmosphere. 

The  writer  of  fiction  uses  the  argument  from  antecedent 
probability  in  the  construction  of  a  story.     He  may  bring 
any  characters  he  chooses  upon  the  stage ;  but  ^gg  ^f  ^nte- 
those  whom  he  does  bring  there  should  be  nat-  bmty  m '°^^ 
ural,  —  that  is,  they  should  talk  and  act  as  such 
characters  would  be  likely  to  do.    He  may  invent  any  series 
of  events  ;  but  he  should  take  care  not  flagrantly  to  vio- 
late  probabilities   familiar   to  his   readers.      He   should 
prefer  an  impossibility  which  seems  probable  to  a  proba- 
bility which  seems  impossible ;  ^  for  he  aims  at  universal, 
not  at  particular,  truth.^ 

The  necessity  of  paying  attention  to  antecedent  prob- 
ability in  the  conduct  of  a  fictitious  narrative  has  been 
recognized  by  all  great  novelists.     It  was  recognized  by 

1  From  A  privative,  and  tpyov,  work. 

2  See  Aristotle :  Poet.,  xxv.  xvii.  ^  Ibid.,  ix.  iii 


358  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Eicliardson  when,  in  spite  of  numerous  protests,  he  let 
Clarissa  Harlowe  die ;  the  fact  that  liis  readers  foreboded 
the  death  of  Clarissa  tended  to  prove  that  the  course  of 
the  story  would  naturally  lead  to  her  death.  It  was 
recognized  by  Dickens  when  he  paid  no  attention  to  the 
general  demand  that  little  Nell  should  not  die.  It  was 
recognized  by  Hawthorne  when  he  wrote  that  it  was 
impossible  to  end  "  The  Blithedale  Eomance  "  in  any  way 
but  that  dreaded  by  his  readers. 

What  is  true  of  all  fiction  is  especially  true  of  so-called 
"  novels  with  a  purpose,"  —  novels  written  to  establish  a 
certain  proposition.  They  succeed  or  fail  according  as 
they  do  or  do  not  square  with  the  facts  of  human  experi- 
ence. Fiction  can  help  us  more  clearly  to  understand 
what  we  believe  or  more  firmly  to  hold  our  beliefs ;  but, 
the  premisses  of  fiction  being  arbitrarily  selected,  its  con- 
clusions can  be  binding  upon  those  only  who  admit  the 
premisses. 

In  every  piece  of  reasoning  some  argument  from  ante- 
cedent probability  should  be  adduced  if  possible ;  for  it  is 
„   ,  ,  difficult  to  create  a  belief  in  the  existence  of 

Need  of  argu-  » 

^tecedeS;  anything  that  cannot  be  accounted  for.  It  is 
probability.  difficult,  for  cxamplc,  to  convict  an  accused 
person  unless  a  sufficient  motive  can  be  discovered  for  the 
crime  with  which  he  is  charged.  In  the  famous  trial  of 
Levi  and  Laban  Kenniston,  indicted  for  highway  robbery 
on  the  person  of  Major  Goodridge,  Webster  based  his  argu- 
ment for  the  defence  on  the  hypothesis  that  Goodridge 
robbed  himself,  Tlie  main  difficulty  with  this  hypothesis 
was  that  of  assigning  a  sufficient  motive  for  such  an  act. 
This  difficulty  is  apparent  in  Webster's  argument :  — 

"  It  is  next  to  be  considered  whether  the  prosecutor's  story  is 
either  natural  or  consistent.     But,  on  the  threshold  of  the  inquiry, 


ARGUMENT.  359 

every  one  puts  the  question,  What  motive  had  the  prosecutor  to  be 
guilty  of  the  abominable  conduct  of  feigning  a  robbei'y  ?  It  is 
ditficult  to  assign  motives.  The  jury  do  not  know  enough  of  his 
character  or  circumstances.  Such  things  have  happeiied,  and  may 
happen  again.  Suppose  he  owed  money  in  Boston,  and  had  it  not 
to  pay  ?  Who  knows  how  high  he  might  estimate  the  value  of  a 
plausible  apology?  Some  men  have  also  a  whimsical  ambition 
of  distinction.  There  is  no  end  to  the  variety  of  modes  in  which 
human  vanity  exhibits  itself.  A  story  of  this  nature  excites  the 
public  sympathy.  It  attracts  general  attention.  It  causes  the 
name  of  the  prosecutor  to  be  celebrated  as  a  man  who  has  been 
attacked,  and,  after  a  manly  resistance,  overcome  by  robbers,  and 
who  has  renewed  his  resistance  as  soon  as  returning  life  and  sen- 
sation enabled  him,  and,  after  a  second  conflict,  has  been  quite 
subdued,  beaten  and  bruised  out  of  all  sense  and  sensation,  and 
finally  left  for  dead  on  the  field.  It  is  not  easy  to  say  how  far 
such  motives,  trifling  and  ridiculous  as  most  men  would  think 
them,  might  influence  the  prosecutor,  when  connected  with  any 
expectation  of  favor  or  indulgence,  if  he  wanted  such,  from  his 
creditors.  It  is  to  be  remembered  that  he  pi'obably  did  not  see 
all  the  consequences  of  his  conduct,  if  his  robbery  be  a  pretence. 
He  might  not  intend  to  prosecute  any  body.  But  he  probably 
found,  and  indeed  there  is  evidence  to  show,  that  it  was  necessary 
for  him  to  do  something  to  find  out  the  authors  of  the  alleged 
robbery.  He  manifested  no  particular  zeal  on  this  subject.  He 
was  in  no  haste.  He  appears  rather  to  have  been  pressed  by 
others  to  do  that  which,  if  he  had  really  been  robbed,  we  should 
suppose  he  would  have  been  most  earnest  to  do,  the  earliest 
moment."  * 

Arguments  from  antecedent  probaloility  may  be  adduced 
in  support  of  each  side  of  a  case.  Whenever  Preponderance 
such  arguments  conflict,  we  compare  them  and  °^  P''°*'^^'i'*y- 
decide  according  to  the  preponderance  of  probability. 

One  may  argue  that  in  a  lottery  there  are  as   many 
chances  of  drawing  a  prize   as  of  drawing  a  blank,— 

1  Daniel  "Webster:  Legal  Arguments;  Defence  of  the  Kennistons, 
April,  1817. 


360  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

and  so  there  are  as  between  a  prize  and  any  one  blank ; 
but,  if  there  are  twenty  blanks  and  one  prize,  a  ticket-holder 
has  only  one  chance  in  twenty-one  of  drawing  the  prize, 
since  each  of  the  twenty  blanks  represents  one  chance 
against  his  drawing  it :  the  preponderance  of  probability 
is,  therefore,  in  favor  of  a  blank.  The  apparent  footprints 
found  by  Eobinson  Crusoe  on  the  sand  might  possibly 
have  been  made  by  the  fortuitous  action  of  the  waves ; 
but  the  probability  that  the  sand  should  have  arranged 
itself  in  this  way,  rather  than  in  any  other  of  the  many 
possible  ways,  was  exceedingly  small  as  compared  with  the 
probability  that  the  marks  had  been  made  by  a  human  foot. 
Those  who  disbelieve  in  the  Christian  miracles  argue  from 
antecedent  probability  that  what  science  calls  "  the  order 
of  Nature "  cannot  be  disturbed ;  those  who  believe  in 
the  miracles  argue  that  there  was  an  adequate  cause  for 
them :  in  this  instance,  the  preponderance  of  probability 
is  to  some  minds  on  the  side  of  belief  in  miracles,  to 
other  minds  on  the  side  of  disbelief.  The  following  ex- 
amples of  conflictmg  probabilities  are  given  by  Cardinal 
Newman :  — 

"  His  [Alexander's]  notorious  braveiy  would  be  almost  decisive 
against  any  charge  against  him  of  having  on  a  particular  occasion 
acted  as  a  covrard. 

"In  like  manner,  good  character  goes  far  in  destroying  the 
force  of  even  plausible  charges.  There  is  indeed  a  degree  of  evi- 
dence in  support  of  an  allegation,  against  which  reputation  is  no 
defence;  but  it  must  be  singularly  strong  to  overcome  an  ante- 
cedent probability  which  stands  opposed  to  it.  Thus  historical 
personages  or  great  authors,  men  of  high  and  pure  character,  have 
had  imputations  cast  upon  thera,  easy  to  make,  difficult  or  impos- 
sible to  meet,  which  are  indignantly  trodden  under  foot  by  all  just 
and  sensible  men,  as  being  as  anti-social  as  they  are  inhuman."* 

Carrl'nal  Newman  :  An  Essay  in  aid  of  a  Grammar  of  Assent,  chap. 
ix.  sect.  ill. 


ARGUMENT.  361 

The  common  fallacy  in  reasoning  from  antecedent  prob- 
ability consists  in  adducing  as  argument  that 

•^  o  o  Fallacious 

which  has  no  basis  in  experience.  from""^"''^ 

"The  fable  of  the  countryman  who  obtained  pj^^^bUity. 
fi'om  Jupiter  the  regulation  of  the  weather,  and  in 
consequence  found  his  crops  fail,  does  not  go  one  step  towards 
proving  the  intended  conclusion ;  because  that  consequence  is  a 
mere  gratuitous  assumption  without  any  probability  to  support  it. 
In  fact,  the  assumption  there  is  not  only  gratuitous,  but  is  in 
direct  contradiction  to  experience ;  for  a  gardener  has,  to  a  certain 
degree,  the  command  of  rain  and  sunshine,  by  the  help  of  his 
watering-pots,  glasses,  hotbeds,  and  flues;  and  the  result  is  not 
the  destruction  of  his  crops."  ^  • 

Arguments  from  example  may  be  divided  into  two 
classes.  In  one  class,  examples  are  cited  as  instances  of 
the  operation  of  the  law  or  principle  which  Arguments 
they  are  adduced  to  prove.  In  the  other  class,  ^'^°™  ^^''^^  ^' 
called  argument  from  parallel  cases  or  from  analogy,  the 
examples  cited  are  also  instances  of  the  operation  of  a 
general  principle,  but  that  principle  is  usually  not  ex- 
pressed; the  reasoner  seems  to  leap  from  one  case  to 
another. 

In  arguments  of  the  first  class,  it  is  important  to  dis- 
tinguish between  examples  which  are  merely  illustrative 
and  those  which  are  argumentative.     A  sup-  niustrative 

^  ..,,.,      .       distinguished 

posed  case  under  a  general  prmciple  wnicli  is  from  argu- 

IT-  11         meutative 

itself  m  dispute,  though  it  may  make  the  examples, 
principle  more  intelligible,  does  not  tend  to  prove  its 
truth.  Cicero's  proposition  that  nothing  is  expedient 
which  is  dishonorable  is  explained,  but  not  established, 
by  the  example  he  gives,  —  an  example  drawn  from 
Themistocles's  project  of  burning  the  Spartan  fleet.  This 
plan   Cicero,  in  opposition  to  Aristides,  maintains  to  be 

••  'WTiatelv :  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  viii. 
16 


362  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

inexpedient  because  dishonorable ;  ^  but  no  one  who  had 
not  ah-eady  assented  to  the  general  principle  would  be 
convinced  of  its  soundness  by  this  example. 

An  actual  instance  of  the  operation  of  a  principle  has, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  force  of  an  argument.  Such  an 
argument  is  given  in  a  criticism  of  Sir  James  Fitzjames 
Stephen's  "  History  of  the  Criminal  Law  of  England."  In 
answer  to  Sir  James's  proposition  "  that  unanimity  of 
jurors  is  essential  to  trial  by  jury :  that  if  that  is  to  be 
given  up,  the  institution  itself  should  be  abolished,"  his 
critic  refers  to  the  fact  that  in  Scotland,  where  a  major- 
ity of  jurors  decide,  trial  by  jury  succeeds  as  well  as  in 
England.  Another  example  is  given  in  the  following 
passage :  — 

"  The  outcry  of  a  suffering  beast  may  be  no  measure  of  its  dis- 
tress. That  outcry,  like  all  else  in  nature,  is  of  a  strictly  utilita- 
rian character.  But  it  was  not  developed  in  the  first  place  as  an 
appeal  to  the  sympathy  of  man,  and  therefore  man's  senses  and 
intuitive  judgment  cannot  be  trusted  to  interpret  it  aright.  The 
pig  squeals  aloud  when  he  is  hurt,  and  advertises  his  woe  over  half 
the  parish,  because,  in  the  wild  state,  his  comrades  were  sworn  to 
rescue  him  from  a  foe  or  die.  Many  a  hunter  who  has  been  treed 
by  a  herd  of  peccaries,  after  wounding  one  of  them,  has  had  con- 
vincing proof  of  their  magnificent  esprit  de  corps.  The  sheep  is 
dumb  before  her  persecutors  because,  when  wild,  there  was  no 
hope  of  salvation  from  the  scared  flock,  fast  fleeing  to  inaccessible 
hills  as  soon  as  the  wolf  began  his  raid.  The  Virginian  opossum, 
when  playing  that  part  in  the  world's  drama  which  he  has  made 
peculiarly  his  own,  will  allow  his  limp  carcase  to  be  mauled  to  an 
incredible  extent  without  moving  an  eyelid.  He  acts  his  lie  with 
Cretan  facility,  and  sticks  to  it  with  more  than  Spartan  fortitude. 
Yet  he  is  silent  for  exactly  the  same  reason  that  the  pig  is  so 
shrilly  vociferous,  viz.,  because  this  has  been  proved  the  best  way 
to  preserve  his  precious  life."  ^ 

1  See  Cicero:  De  Officiis,  iii.  xi.  9-13. 

*  Louis  Robinson,  M.D. :  Every-day  Cruelty.  The  Fortrnghtly  R» 
view,  July,  1894,  p.  107. 


ARGUMENT.  363 

Still  another  example  is  the  little  essay  by  Charles 
Lamb  on  the  popular  proverb  that  "  of  two  disputants 
the  warmest  is  generally  in  the  wrong  " :  — 

"  Our  experience  would  lead  us  to  quite  an  opposite  conclusion. 
Temper,  indeed,  is  no  test  of  truth ;  but  warmth  and  earnestness 
are  a  proof  at  least  of  a  man's  own  conviction  of  the  rectitude 
of  that  which  he  maintains.  Coolness  is  as  often  the  result  of 
an  unprincipled  indiiference  to  truth  or  falsehood,  as  of  a  sober 
confidence  in  a  man's  own  side4n  a  dispute.  Nothing  is  more 
insulting-  sometimes  than  the  appearance  of  this  philosophic  tem- 
per. There  is  little  Titubus,  the  stammering  law-stationer  in 
Lincoln's  Inn  —  we  have  seldom  known  this  shrewd  little  fellow 
engaged  in  an  argument  where  we  were  not  convinced  he  had 
the  best  of  it,  if  his  tongue  would  but  fairly  have  seconded  him. 
When  he  has  been  spluttering  excellent  broken  sense  for  an  hour 
together,  writhing  and  labouring  to  be  delivered  of  the  point  of 
dispute — the  very  gist  of  the  controversy  knocking  at  his  teeth, 
which  like  some  obstinate  iron-grating  still  obstructed  its  deliver- 
ance — ■  his  puny  frame  convulsed,  and  face  reddening  all  over  at 
an  unfairness  in  the  logic  which  he  wanted  articulation  to  expose, 
it  has  moved  our  gall  to  see  a  smooth  portly  fellow  of  an  ad- 
versary, that  cared  not  a  button  for  the  merits  of  the  question,  by 
merely  laying  his  hand  upon  the  head  of  the  stationer,  and  de- 
siring him  to  be  calm  (your  tall  disputants  have  always  the  advan- 
tage), with  a  provoking  sneer  carry  the  argument  clean  from  him 
in  the  opinion  of  all  the  by-standers,  who  have  gone  away  clearly 
convinced  that  Titubus  must  have  been  in  the  wrong,  because  he 

was  in  a  passion  ;  and  that  Mr. ,  meaning  his  opponent,  is 

one  of  the  fairest  and   at  the   same  time  one  of  the  most   dis- 
passionate arguers  breathing."  i 

Arguments  of  this  class  vary  greatly  in  force.  A 
single  carefully-guarded  experiment  in  natural  science  by 
a  competent  observer  mav  be  enough  to  estab-  Argumenta- 

i  "  .  ^-'^^  examples 

lish    a    general    proposition ;    but   in   human  vary  in  force. 

affairs    several    observed    instances    arc   rarely    enougli 

1  Lamb:  The  Essays  of  Ella;  Popular  Fallacies,  Tii. 


364  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

When  Newton  had  analyzed  one  ray  of  sunlight  into  the 
prismatic  colors,  he  justly  concluded  that  the  same  analy- 
sis would  apply  to  all  other  rays  of  sunlight ;  ^  but  several 
cases  like  that  of  Eichard  III.  are  by  no  means  sufficient 
to  establish  a  connection  between  physical  and  moral 
deformity.  "  One  man  is  not  as  exactly  similar  to  an- 
other man,  one  race  of  men  is  not  as  exactly  similai 
to  another  race  of  men,  one  political  community  is  not 
as  exactly  similar  to  another  political  community,  as  one 
piece  of  platinum  is  to  another  piece  of  platinum,  or  as 
one  vial  of  oxygen  is  to  another  vial*  of  oxygen."  ^ 

Argument  from  analogy  —  the  other  kind  of  argument 
from  example  —  is  defined  by  Whately  as  that  "  in  which 
Argument  ^lie  two  thiugs  {viz.,  the  one  from  which,  and 
from  analogy.  |.|-^q  ^^^  ^^  which,  wc  arguc)  arc  not,  neces- 
sarily, themselves  alike,  but  stand  in  similar  relations  to 
some  other  things.  .  .  .  Thus  an  egg  and  a  seed  are  not 
in  themselves  alike,  but  bear  a  like  relation,  to  the  par- 
ent bird  and  to  her  future  nestling,  on  the  one  hand, 
and  to  the  old  and  young  plant  on  the  other,  respec- 
tively; this  relation  being  the  genus  which  both  fall 
under."  ^     A  better  definition  is  Professor  Minto's :  — 

"  In  a  strict  logical  sense,  however,  as  defined  by  Mill,  sanctioned 
by  the  previous  usage  of  Butler  and  Kant,  analogy  means  more 
than  a  resemblance  of  relations.  It  means  a  preponderating  re- 
semblance between  two  things  such  as  to  warrant  us  in  inferring 
that  the  resemblance  extends  further.  This  is  a  species  of  argu- 
ment distinct  from  the  extension  of  an  empirical  law.  In  the 
extension  of  an  empirical  law,  the  ground  of  inference  is  a  coin- 
cidence frequently  repeated  within  our  experience,  and  the  infer- 
ence is  that  it  has  occurred  or  will  occur  beyond  that  experience : 

1  Sir  George  C.  Lewis  :  Observation  and  Reasoning  in  Politics,  vol.  ii 
chap.  XV.  sect.  i. 

■■^  Whately ;  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  part  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  vii. 


ARGUMENT.  365 

in  the  argument  from  analogy,  the  ground  of  inference  is  the 
resemblance  between  two  individual  objects  or  kinds  of  objects 
in  a  certain  number  of  points,  and  the  inference  is  that  they 
resemble  one  another  in  some  other  point,  known  to  belong  to 
the  one,  but  not  known  to  belong  to  the  other.  '  Two  things 
go  together  in  many  cases,  therefore  in  all,  including  this  one,' 
is  the  argument  in  extending  a  generalization:  'Two  things 
agree  in  many  respects,  therefore  in  this  other,'  is  the  argument 
from  analogy. 

"The  example  given  by  Reid  in  his  Intellectual  Powers  has 
become  the  standard  illustration  of  the  peculiar  argument  from 
analogy. 

"  '  We  may  observe  a  very  great  similitude  between  this  earth 
which  we  inhabit,  and  the  other  planets,  Saturn,  Jupiter,  Mars, 
Venus  and  Mercm-y.  They  all  revolve  round  the  sun,  as  the  earth 
does,  although  at  different  distances  and  in  different  periods.  They 
borrow  all  their  light  from  the  sun,  as  the  earth  does.  Several 
of  them  are  known  to  revolve  round  their  axis  like  the  earth, 
and  by  that  means  have  like  succession  of  day  and  night.  Some 
of  them  have  moons,  that  serve  to  give  them  light  in  the  ab- 
sence of  the  sun,  as  our  moon  does  to  us.  They  are  all,  in  their 
motions,  subject  to  the  same  law  of  gravitation  as  the  earth  is. 
From  all  this  similitude  it  is  not  unreasonable  to  think  that  these 
planets  may,  like  our  earth,  be  the  habitation  of  various  orders  of 
living  creatures.  There  is  some  probability  in  this  conclusion 
from  analogy.' "  ^ 

Abraham  Lincoln  argued  from  analogy  when,  on  being 
advised  to  change  generals  in  the  midst  of  a  campaign,  he 
replied  by  asking  his  advisers  whether  they  would  swap 
horses  in  the  middle  of  a  stream.  A  sentence  in  one  of 
Patrick  Henry's  famous  speeches  (1765)  contains  an 
argument  from  analogy :  "  Ciesar  had  his  Brutus,  Charles 
the  First  his  Cromwell,  and  George  the  Third  —  may 
profit  by  their  example."  Had  Henry  not  been  mterrupted 
by  cries  of  "  Treason ! "  he  might  possibly  have  brought 

1  William  Minto :  Logic,  Inductive  and  Deductive,  book  ii.  chap.  x. 


366  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

out  still  more  plainly  the  argument  implied  in  the  words 
after  the  dash.  Aristotle  founds  an  aroument  against 
the  choice  of  magistrates  by  lot  upon  the  analogous  case 
of  choosmg  as  athletes,  "  not  the  ablest  combatants,  but 
any  chance  people  upon  whom  the  lot  has  fallen,"  or  of 
"  selecting  the  pilot  from  among  the  crew,  on  the  principle 
that  the  right  man  is  the  one  upon  whom  the  lot  has 
fallen  rather  than  the  one  who  possesses  the  requisite 
knowledge."  ^ 

Daniel  Webster  argues  from  analogy  that  the  public 
lands  within  the  territory  of  a  new  State  belong  not  to 
that  State,  but  to  the  general  government :  — 

"  The  idea,  that,  when  a  new  State  is  created,  the  public  lands 
lying  within  her  territory  become  the  property  of  such  new  State 
in  consequence  of  her  sovereignty,  is  too  preposterous  for  serious 
refutation.  Such  notions  have  heretofore  been  advanced  in  Con- 
gress, but  nobody  has  sustained  them.  They  were  rejected  and 
abandoned,  although  one  cannot  say  whether  they  may  not  be 
revived,  in  consequence  of  recent  propositions  which  have  been 
made  in  the  Senate.  The  new  States  are  admitted  on  express 
conditions,  recognizing,  to  the  fullest  extent,  the  right  of  the 
United  States  to  the  public  lands  within  their  borders ;  and  it  is 
no  more  reasonable  to  contend  that  some  indefinite  idea  of  State 
sovereignty  overrides  all  these  stipulations,  and  makes  the  lands 
the  property  of  the  States,  against  the  provisions  and  conditions 
of  their  own  constitution,  and  the  Constitution  of  the  United 
States,  than  it  would  be,  that  a  similar  doctrine  entitled  the  State 
of  New  York  to  the  money  collected  at  the  custom-house  in  this 
city  [New  York]  ;  since  it  is  no  more  inconsistent  with  sovereignty 
that  one  government  should  hold  lands,  for  the  purpose  of  sale, 
within  the  territory  of  another,  than  it  is  that  it  should  lay  and 
collect  taxes  and  duties  within  such  territory."  2 

1  Aristotle :    Rhetoric,   book  ii.  chap.   xx.    Translated  by  J.  E.  C. 
*         Welldon. 

2  Daniel  Webster:   Speech  at  Niblo's  Saloon,  New  York,  March  15, 
1837. 


ARGUMENT.  867 

In  the  following  passage,  Mr.  Balfour  argues  from 
analogy  that  the  function  of  reason  in  the  human 
mechanism  is  overestimated :  — 

"  I  have  somewhere  seen  it  stated  that  the  steam-engine  in  its 
primitive  form  required  a  boy  to  work  the  valve  by  which  steam 
was  admitted  to  the  cylinder.  It  was  his  business  at  the  proper 
period  of  each  stroke  to  perform  this  necessary  operation  by  pull- 
ing a  string;  and  though  the  same  object  has  long  since  been 
attained  by  mechanical  methods  far  simpler  and  more  trust- 
worthy, yet  I  have  little  doubt  that  until  the  advent  of  that  revo- 
lutionary youth  who  so  tied  the  string  to  one  of  the  moving  parts 
of  the  engine  that  his  personal  supervision  was  no  longer  necessary, 
the  boy  in  office  greatly  magnified  his  functions,  and  regarded  him- 
self with  pardonable  pride  as  the  most  important,  because  the  only 
rational,  link  in  the  chain  of  causes  and  effects  by  which  the  en- 
ergy developed  in  the  furnace  was  ultimately  converted  into  the 
motion  of  the  fly-wheel.  So  do  we  stand  as  reasoning  beings  in 
the  presence  of  the  complex  processes,  physiological  and  psychical, 
out  of  which  are  manufactured  the  convictions  necessary  to  the 
conduct  of  life.  To  the  results  attained  by  their  co-operation 
reason  makes  its  slender  contribution ;  but  in  order  that  it  may  do 
so  effectively,  it  is  beneficently  decreed  that,  pending  the  evolu- 
tion of  some  better  device,  reason  should  appear  to  the  reasoner 
the  most  admirable  and  important  contrivance  in  the  whole 
mechanism."  ^ 

To  a  correspondent  who  asks  "  why  the  workingman 
should  have  a  market  value  or  figure  for  his  services  the 
same  as  [^sicl  you  would  put  upon  potatoes  or  any  other 
commodity,"  the  editor  of  "The  Sun"  replies  by  pointing 
out  the  analogy  between  all  laborers  and  potatoes :  — 

"  Because  all  men  are  alike,  and  as  laborers,  by  their  hands  oi 
their  heads,  without  any  discrimination  whatsoever,  they  are  all 
commodities,  with  their  worth  measured  by  the  market  price  just 
like  a  potato.  There  is  no  difference  between  high-priced  goods  like 
railroad  Presidents,  such  as  Chauncey  Mitchell  Depew  of  New 

1  A.  J.  Balfour  :  The  Foundations  of  Belief,  part  iii.  chap.  ii.  sect.  ii. 


368  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

York  oi-  George  Roberts  of  Pennsylvania,  and  a  potato.  Each 
is  traded  in  according  to  the  market  price.  The  big  raihoad  men 
get  great  wages  because  the  latter  are  necessary  to  allure  them 
from  other  pursuits  where  their  talents  would  bring  them  lai'ge 
returns.  At  every  move  in  life,  at  every  stage  of  the  competition, 
they  are  but  potatoes,  absolutely.  If  Providence  should  suddenly 
inundate  us  with  an  army  of  men  fit  for  railroad  Presidents,  their 
price  would  decline.  If  it  should  suddenly  cut  off  our  potatoes, 
substituting  nothing  for  them,  the  price  of  potatoes  would  go  up. 
Between  the  potato  and  the  railroad  President,  or  the  great  com- 
mercial magnate  of  any  sort,  there  is  no  grade  or  sort  of  com- 
modity, human  or  otherwise,  which  is  not  bought  and  sold  by  the 
market  jirice.  .  .  .  We  are  all  laborers,  and,  in  respect  of  the 
market  price  of  us,  we  are  all  potatoes.  The  man  who  feels  his 
pride  hurt  when  confronted  by  this  unchangeable  fact  is  a  fool."  ^ 

Another  argument  from  analogy  is  given  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage ; — 

"  The  absolute  right  to  strike  is  so  generally  assumed  that  we 
must  pause  a  moment  here.  Has  a  surgeon  a  right  to  strike  in  the 
midst  of  an  amputation  ?  Has  the  crew  of  a  ship  the  right  to 
strike  in  a  storm  at  sea  ?  Had  the  engineer  of  the  Ferris  Wheel 
the  right  to  strike  with  fifteen  hundred  people  suspended  in  mid- 
air ?  Has  a  locomotive  engineer  a  right  to  strike  and  leave  his 
train  between  stations,  imperilling  hundreds^f  lives  ?"  ^ 

In  the  first  class  of  arguments  from  example,  —  those 
in  which  specific  instances  are  cited  for  the  purpose  of 
Fallacious        proviug  E  general  rule,  —  the  danger  lies    in 

arguments  i   •  i  i  •         •  p  -. 

from  example,  making  a  hastj  generalization  from  msufncient 
data  and  ignoring  whatever  supports  an  opposite  con- 
clusion. This  fallacy  is  committed  by  those  who  argue 
from  the  examples  of  Franklin  and  Lincoln  that  men  who 
do  not  go  to  college  are  more  likely  to  succeed  in  life 
than  men  who  do,  and  by  those  who  argue  from  a  few 

1  The  [New  York]  Sun,  Feb.  9,  1895. 

"  Bishop  Cyrus  D.  Foss :  The  Old  Pulpit  and  the  New.  The  North 
American  Review,  March,  1895,  p.  298. 


ARGUMENT.  369 

instances  that  the  use  or  the  non-use  of  tobacco,  that  mar- 
riage or  celibacy,  conduces  to  long  life,  that  a  quick  tem- 
per goes  with  red  hair,  or  good  nature  with  blue  eyes. 
that  a  college  degree  implies  scholarship. 

In  the  second  class  of  arguments  from  example,  —  argu- 
ments from  analogy,  —  the  danger  lies  in  basing  an 
argument  on  a  resemblance  that  is  insufficient  j-^j^e 
for  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  employed.  An  ^"'^log'es. 
argument  of  this  kind  was  that  by  which  Frenchmen 
were  induced  to  invest  their  money  in  the  Panama  Canal. 
From  the  fact  that  the  Suez  Canal  had  been  successful 
under  the  management  of  Ferdinand  de  Lesseps,  it  was 
inferred  that  the  new  enterprise,  being  under  the  same 
management,  would  also  succeed ;  but  attention  was  not 
paid  to  the  existence  of  obstacles  at  Panama  which  had 
not  existed  at  Suez  and  which  finally  proved  insur- 
mountable. 

A  false  analogy  has  been  made  the  basis  of  an  argu- 
ment in  favor  of  despotic  government.  This  form  of 
government  has  been  likened  to  that  exercised  by  a  parent 
over  his  children.  ^Despotic  government  resembles  paren- 
tal government,  however,  only  in  its  irresponsibility, — . 
that  is,  in  the  fact  that  it  is  a  despotism ;  whereas  the 
beneficial  working  of  parental  government  depends  not  on 
its  irresponsibility,  but  "  upon  two  other  attributes  of 
parental  government,  the  affection  of  the  parent  for  the 
children  and  the  superiority  of  the  parent  in  wisdom  and 
experience."  ^ 

The  argument  from  analogy  drawn  from  the  examples 
of  Csesar,  Cromwell,  Napoleon,  and  Aaron  Bun.  by  which 
some  years  ago  partisan  newspapers  attempte  I  to  prove 
that  President  Grant  meant  to  establish  a  despotism  on 

1  J.  S.  Mill :  .\  System  of  Logic,  book  v.  chap,  v  pect.  r\. 


,370  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

the  ruins  of  the  American  Republic,  caused  little  alarm, 
because  there  was  no  evidence  tending  to  brincr  Grant 
into  the  same  class  or  under  the  same  conditions  with 
Csesar,  Cromwell,  Napoleon,  and  Aaron  Burr.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  fears  of  patriotic  civilians,  including  even 
Dr.  Franklin,  were  aroused  by  tlie  establishment  in  1783 
of  "The  Cincinnati,"  an  association  formed  by  the  oificers 
of  the  Kevolutionary  army  of  the  United  States  for  social 
and  benevolent  purposes ;  but  the  apprehension  that  the 
provision  for  transmitting  membership  to  the  eldest  male 
descendants  of  the  original  members  would  prove  to  be 
the  first  step  towards  an  aristocracy  was  groundless,  be- 
cause the  analogy  on  which  it  was  founded  was  false. 

In  each  of  the  following  passages  the  author  points  out 
a  false  analogy  :  — 

"'If,'  they  say,  'free  competition  is  a  good  thhig  m  trade,  it 
must  surely  be  a  good  thing  in  education.  The  supply  of  other 
commodities,  of  sugar,  for  example,  is  left  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
demand  ;  and  the  consequence  is,  that  we  are  better  supplied  with 
sugar  than  if  the  Government  undertook  to  supply  us.  Wliy  then 
should  we  doubt  that  the  supply  of  instructiou  will,  without  the 
intervention  of  the  Government,  be  found  eqTial  to  the  demand?' 

"Never  was  there  a  more  false  analogy.  Whether  a  man  is 
well  supplied  with  sugar  is  a  matter  which  concerns  himself  alone. 
But  whether  he  is  well  supplied  with  instruction  is  a  matter  which 
concerns  his  neighbours  and  the  State.  If  he  cannot  afford  to  pay 
for  sugar,  he  must  go  without  sugar.  But  it  is  by  no  means  fit 
that,  because  he  cannot  afford  to  pay  for  education,  he  should  go 
without  education.  Between  the  rich  and  their  instructors  there 
may,  as  Adam  Smith  says,  be  fi'ee  trade.  The  supply  of  music 
masters  and  Italian  masters  may  be  left  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
demand.  But  what  is  to  become  of  the  millions  who  are  too  poor 
to  procui-e  without  assistance  the  services  of  a  decent  school- 
master?"! 

1  Macaulay :  Speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  April  19,  1847.  See 
also  Matthew  Arnold:   Essays  iu  Criticism;  A  French  Eton,  sect.  ii. 


AKGUMENT.  371 

'■  It  would  be  admitted,  "  says  Whately,  "  that  a  great  and  per- 
manent diminution  in  the  quantity  of  some  useful  commodity, 
such  as  corn,  or  coal,  or  iron,  throughout  the  world,  would  be  a 
serious  and  lasting  loss ;  and  again,  that  if  the  fields  and  coal- 
mines yielded  regularly  double  quantities,  with  the  same  labour,  we 
should  be  so  much  the  richer ;  hence  it  might  be  inferred,  that  if 
the  quantity  of  gold  and  silver  in  the  world  were  diminished  one- 
half,  or  were  doubled,  like  results  would  follow  ;  the  utility  of 
these  metals,  for  the  purposes  of  coin,  being  very  great.  Now 
there  are  many  points  of  resemblance,  and  many  of  difference, 
between  the  precious  metals  on  the  one  hand,  and  corn,  coal,  &c., 
on  the  other;  but  the  important  circumstance  to  the  supposed 
argument,  is,  that  the  utility  of  gold  and  silver  (as  coin,  which  is 
far  the  chief)  depends  an  their  value,  which  is  regulated  by  their 
scarcity ;  or,  rather,  to  speak  strictly,  by  the  difficulty  of  obtaining 
them ;  whereas,  if  corn  and  coal  were  ten  times  more  abundant 
((.  e.  more  easily  obtained),  a  bushel  of  either  would  still  be  as 
useful  as  now.  But  if  it  were  twice  as  easy  to  procure  gold  as  it 
is,  a  sovereign  would  be  twice  as  large;  if  only  half  as  easy,  it 
would  be  of  the  size  of  a  half-sovereign :  and  this  (besides  the 
trifling  circumstance  of  the  cheapness  or  dearness  of  gold  orna- 
ments) would  be  all  the  difference.  The  analogy,  therefore,  fails 
in  the  point  essential  to  the  ai-guraent."i 

"  Another  exarapl^  is  the  not  uncommon  dictum,  that  bodies 
politic  have  youth,  maturity,  old  age,  and  death,  like  bodies  natu- 
ral :  that  after  a  certain  duration  of  prosperity,  they  tend  spon- 
taneously to  decay.  This  also  is  a  false  analogy,  because  the 
decay  of  the  vital  powers  in  an  animated  body  can  be  distinctly 
traced  to  the  natural  progress  of  those  very  changes  of  structure 
■which,  in  their  earlier  stages,  constitute  its  growth  to  maturity; 
while  in  the  body  politic  the  progress  of  those  changes  cannot, 
generally  speaking,  have  any  effect  but  the  still  further  continu- 
ance of  growth :  it  is  the  stoppage  of  that  pro'i^ress,  and  the  com- 
mencement of  retrogression,  that  alone  would  constitute  decay. 
Bodies  politic  die,  but  it  is  of  disease,  or  violent  death :  they  have 
no  old  age."  2 


*o^ 


1  Whately:  Elements  of  Rhetoric,  p^irt  i.  chap.  ii.  sect.  vu. 

2  J.  S.  Mill :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  aeot.  vi 


372  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

One  who  perceives  many  analogies  is  in  danger  of  mis- 
taking fanciful  for  real  ones,  of  making  a  mere  metaphor  do 
duty  as  an  argument.  Mill  cites  Bacon  as  being  "  equally 
conspicuous  in  the  use  and  abuse  of  figurative  illustra- 
tion." 1     Such  is  also  Macaulay's  opinion  :  — 

"The  truth  is  that  his  [Bacon's]  mind  was  wonderfully  quick  in 
perceiving  analogies  of  all  sorts.  But,  like  several  eminent  men 
whom  we  could  name,  both  living  and  dead,  he  sometimes  ap- 
peared strangely  deficient  in  the  power  of  distinguishing  rational 
from  fanciful  analogies,  analogies  which  are  arguments  from 
analogies  which  are  mere  illustrations,  analogies  like  that  which 
Bishop  Butler  so  ably  pointed  out,  between  natural  and  revealed 
religion,  from  analogies  like  that  which  Addison  discovered,  between 
the  series  of  Grecian  gods  carv^ed  by  Phidias  and  the  series  of  Eng- 
lish kings  painted  by  Kneller.  This  want  of  discrimination  has 
led  to  many  strange  political  speculations.  Sir  William  Temple 
deduced  a  theory  of  government  from  the  properties  of  the  pj'ra- 
mid.  Mr.  Southey's  whole  system  of  finance  is  grounded  on  the 
phenomena  of  evaporation  and  rain.  In  theology,  this  perverted 
ingenuity  has  made  still  wilder  work.  From  the  time  of  Irenneus 
and  Origen  down  to  the  present  day,  there  has  not  been  a  single 
generation  in  which  great  divines  have  not  been  led  into  the  most 
absurd  expositions  of  Scripture,  by  mere  incapacity  to  distinguish 
analogies  proper,  to  use  the  scholastic  phrase,  from  analogies 
metaphorical."  2 

The  danger  attending  the  attempt  to  treat  fanciful 
analogies  as  if  they  were  arguments  is  well  presented  in 
one  of  George  Eliot's  novels  :  — 

.  "Mr.  Stelling  concluded  that  Tom's  brain,  being  peculiarly 
impervious  to  etymology  and  demonstrations,  was  peculiarly  in 
need  of  being  ploughed  and  harrowed  by  these  patent  implements : 
it  was  his  favourite  metaphor,  that  the  classics  and  geometry  con- 
stituted that  culture  of  the  mind  which  prepared  it  for  the  recep- 
tion of  any  subsequent  crop.     I  say  nothing  against  Mr.  Stelling's 

1  .T.  S   Mill :  A  System  of  Logic,  book  v.  chap.  v.  sect.  vii. 

2  Macaulay  :  Essays  ;  Lord  Bacon. 


ARGUMENT.  373 

theory  :  if  we  are  to  have  one  regimen  for  all  minds,  his  seems  to 
me  as  good  as  any  other.  I  only  know  it  turned  out  as  uncom- 
fortably for  Tom  Tulliver  as  if  he  had  been  plied  with  cheese  in 
order  to  remedy  a  gastric  w^eakuess  which  prevented  him  from 
digesting  it.  It  is  astonishing  what  a  different  result  one  gets  by 
changing  the  metaphor  !  Once  call  the  brain  an  intellectual  stom- 
ach, and  one's  ingenious  conception  of  the  classics  and  geometry  as 
ploughs  and  harrows  seems  to  settle  nothing.  But  then  it  is  open 
to  some  one  else  to  follow  great  authorities,  and  call  the  mind  a 
sheet  of  white  paper  or  a  mirror,  in  which  case  one's  knowledge  of 
the  digestive  process  becomes  quite  irrelevant.  It  was  doubtless 
an  ingenious  idea  to  call  the  camel  the  ship  of  the  desert,  but  it 
would  hardly  lead  one  far  in  training  that  useful  beast.  O  Aris- 
totle I  if  you  had  had  the  advantage  of  being  'the  freshest  mod- 
ern '  instead  of  the  greatest  ancient,  would  you  not  have  mingled 
your  praise  of  metaphorical  speech,  as  a  sign  of  high  intelligence, 
with  a  lamentation  that  intelligence  so  rarely  shows  itself  in  speech 
without  metaphor,  —  that  we  can  so  seldom  declare  what  a  thing 
is,  except  by  saying  it  is  something  else  ?  "  ^ 

In  an  argument  from  SIGN,  as  has  already  been  said,^ 
one  thing  suggests  another  through  the  association  of 
ideas.  We  argue  from  sign  when,  on  seeing  Argument 
the  flags  flying  on  Osborne  House  or  on  the  ^^""^  ^'^• 
Capitol  at  Washington,  we  infer  that  the  Queen  is  in  her 
mansion  or  that  Congress  is  in  session.  We  argue  from 
sign  when  from  the  fact  that  ice  is  forming  we  infer  that 
the  temperature  is  below  freezing  point.  The  traveller 
argues  from  sign  when,  on  seeing  a  guide-board  bearing 
the  words  "  Groton  5  m."  and  a  hand  pointing  in  a  cer- 
tain direction,  he  infers  that  if  he  goes  five  miles  in  that 
direction  he  shall  arrive  at  a  place  called  Groton.  A 
teacher  arsjues  from  sign  when  from  the  fact  that  two 
of  his  pupils  whispered  during  his  lecture  he  draws  the 
conclusion  that  they  were  not  interested  in  what  he  was 

1  George  Eliot  r  The  Mill  on  the  Floss,  book  ii.  chap.  i. 

2  See  page  354. 


374  KINDS   OF  COMPOSITION. 

saying.  The  people  of  Lidge  argued  from  sign  when 
they  inferred  that,  because  Quentin  Durward  wore  a 
bonnet  with  the  Saint  Andrew's  cross  and  fleur-de-lis, 
he  must  belong  to  the  Scottish  Archers  of  King  Louis's 
Guards.!  Macaulay  argues  from  sign  that  Sir  Pliilip 
Francis  wrote  the  "  Letters  of  Junius  "  :  — 

"  As  to  the  position,  pursuits,  and  connections  of  Junius,  the 
tollowing  are  tlie  most  important  facts  which  can  be  considered  as 
clearly  proved :  first,  that  he  was  acquainted  with  the  technical 
forms  of  the  Secretary  of  State's  office ;  secondly,  that  he  was  inti- 
mately acquainted  with  the  business  of  the  war-office  ;  thirdly,  that 
he,  during  the  year  1770,  attended  debates  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
and  took  notes  of  speeches,  particularly  of  the  speeches  of  Lord 
Chatham ;  fourthly,  that  he  bitterly  resented  the  appointment  of 
Mr.  Chamier  to  the  place  of  Deputy  Secretary  at  War ;  fifthly,  that 
he  was  bound  by  some  strong  tie  to  the  first  Lord  Holland.  Now, 
Francis  passed  some  years  in  the  Secretary  of  State's  office;  he 
was  subsequently  chief  clerk  of  the  war-office  ;  he  repeatedly  men- 
tioned that  he  had  himself,  in  1770,  heard  speeches  of  Lord  Chat- 
ham, and  some  of  those  speeches  were  actually  printed  from  his 
notes ;  he  resigned  his  clerksliip  at  the  war-office  from  resentment 
at  the  appointment  of  ]\Ir.  Chamier;  it  was  by  Lord  Holland  that 
he  was  first  introduced  into  the  public  service.  Xow  here  are  five 
marks  [or  xif/ns],  all  of  which  ought  to  be  found  in  Junius.  They 
are  all  five  found  in  Francis.  We  do  not  believe  that  more  than 
two  of  them  can  be  found  in  any  other  person  whatever."  ^ 

The  force  of  an  argument  from  sign  varies,  of  course, 
with  the  conditions  of  each  case.  We  should  require  more 
Arguments      evidcncc  to  couvince  us  that  a  sea-serpent  had 

from  sign 

vary  in  force,  bccu  sccu  ill  Loug  Island  Souud  than  that  a 
school  of  blue-fish  had  been  seen  there.  We  should  re- 
quire an  unusual  amount  of  evidence  to  make  us  believe 
a  story  told  by  Defoe  of  a  woman  who  had  a  third  set  of 
natural  teeth  at  ninety  and  lived  to  be  one  hundred  and 

^  See  Scott :  Quentin  Durward,  vol.  ii.  chap.  ii. 
2  Macaulay :  Essajs ;  Warreu  Hastings. 


ARGUMENT.  375 

twenty-seven  years  old.  The  force  of  an  argument  from 
sign  depends,  moreover,  not  upon  the  magnitude  of  that 
which  serves  as  a  sign,  but  upon  the  closeness  of  its 
connection  with  the  thing  signified.  It  matters  not  how 
trifling  a  circumstance  is  in  itself  if  it  is  a  link  in  a  chain 
of  evidence.  A  skilful  forgery  is  detected  by  an  inspec- 
tion of  small  points ;  a  mutilated  body  has  been  iden- 
tified by  a  peculiarity  of  the  teeth ;  a  murderer  has  been 
tracked  by  the  print  of  the  nails  in  his  shoe.  The  attempt 
to  convict  Bishop  Atterbury  of  treasonable  correspondence, 
on  evidence  drawn  from  his  allusions  to  a  lame  lap-dog, 
was  ridiculed  by  Swift ;  but  the  real  question  was  not 
whether  the  lap-dog  was  important  in  itself,  but  whether 
it  stood  for  the  Pretender. 

When  the  sign  from  which  we  argue  bears  to  the  thing 
signified  the  relation  of  effect  to  cause,  the  argument  is 
stronger  than  if  it  rested  on  nothing  but  an  arbitrary 
association  of  ideas  ;  for  in  the  former  case  the  argument 
amounts  to  a  true  induction. ^  If,  for  example,  on  waking 
in  the  morning  we  find  that  ice  has  formed  in  the  water- 
pitcher,  we  infer  with  absolute  certainty  that  the  tem- 
perature of  the  room  has  during  the  night  fallen  below 
freezing  point,  because  the  relation  of  sign  to  thing  sig- 
nified is  that  of  effect  to  the  only  known  cause.  When, 
however,  the  sign  from  which  we  argue  may  be  the  effect 
of  any  one  of  several  causes,  the  inference  from  sign  to 
thing  signified  is  far  from  sure. 

In  arguing  from  sign,  a  reasoner  should  beware  of  mak- 
ing an  incorrect  inference  from  sign  to  thing  Fallacious 

"  o  v.^     arguments 

signified.     Such  a   fallacy   occurs  in  the  fol-  from  sign, 
lowing  sentence  in  Grew's  "  Cosmologia  Sacra":  — 

"  It  is  clear  from  the  quantity  of  canvas  that  that  vessel  pos- 
sesses great  velocity." 

^  See  page  350. 


376  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Grew's  fallacy  ^  consists  in  the  inference  that  a  vessel  which 
carries  a  great  quantity  of  canvas  must  move  rapidly  through  the 
water.  The  quantity  of  canvas  may  indicate  that  the  wind  is 
very  light,  or  that  the  vessel  is  so  clumsy  that  it  can  make  no 
headway  without  an  unusual  press  of  sail. 

An  argument  from  sign  which  is  valid  in  itself  may  be 
opposed  and  perhaps  overcome  by  an  argument  from  ante- 
Argument  from  cedent  probability.     Thus,  in  a  thesis  on  the 

sign  opposed  .  .  t  i     /^  i  •  i  •         • 

by  that  from      dialcct  spokeu  in   a  small  Canadian  district, 

antecedent 

probability.  wliich  was  Settled  by  the  French  but  which 
had  for  two  centuries- been  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the 
French -speaking  world,  a  student  argued  from  evidence 
obtained  on  the  spot  that  this  dialect  closely  resembles 
the  Parisian  French  of  to-day.  To  this  argument  from 
sign  there  is  an  obvious  answer  derived  from  the  ante- 
cedent improbability  that  the  language  spoken  in  a  remote 
corner  of  Canada  would  undergo  exactly  the  same  changes 
as  that  spoken  in  the  capital  of  France.  To  overcome  this 
argument  from  antecedent  probability  it  would  be  neces- 
sary for  the  author  of  the  thesis  to  prove  that  he 
thoroughly  knew  Parisian  French,  and  that  he  made  no 
mistake  as  to  the  Canadian  dialect. 

An  argument  of  any  one  of  the  three  classes  just  con- 
sidered may  be  combined  with  other  arguments  of  the 
strength  of      samc  class  or  witli  arguments  of  one  or  both 

combined  '~ 

arguments.  of  tlic  other  classcs,  cicli  separate  argument 
strengthening  the  others  and  being  strengthened  in  turn 
by  them.  Those  who  oppose  the  view  that  Bacon  wrote 
the  works  attributed  to  Shakspere  argue  from  antecedent 

1  This  fallacy  is  ]K)inted  out  by  Coleridge,  who  describes  the  vessel 
as  "  a  clumsy  Dutch  Schooner  heavily  rigged,  and  wolibling  on  three 
knots  per  hour,  under  crowded  sails."  See  "  Marginalia  Hitherto  Unpub- 
lished."   The  [London]  Atlienaeum,  April  7,  1888,  p.  435. 


ARGUMENT.  377 

probability  that  no  one  man  could  have  written  all  the 
works  attributed  to  Shakspere  and  all  those  attributed  to 
Bacon,  and  that  if  Shakspere  had  not  written  the  works 
attributed  to  him  he  would  not  throughout  his  life  have 
had  the  credit  of  writing  them.  They  argue  from  sign 
that  the  works  attributed  to  Shakspere  and  those  at- 
tributed to  Bacon  are  too  unlike  to  be  the  product  of  the 
same  mind.  To  prove  that  a  man  brought  up  as  Shak- 
spere was  might  have  written  the  works  attributed  to  him, 
they  argue  from  example  that,  as  Erskine,  who  had  no 
legal  education,  yet  became  the  first  advocate  of  his  time, 
and  as  Lincoln,  though  a  man  of  small  erudition,  developed 
a  literary  style  of  great  strength,  and  as  Keats,  in  spite  of 
many  disadvantages,  became  a  great  poet  at  twenty-five, 
so  Shakspere,  being  a  man  of  remarkable  natural  gifts, 
made  the  most  of  all  the  material  that  fell  in  his  way 
and  learned  to  write  by  writing. 

In  answer  to  a  commonly-received  view  as  to  the 
extinction  of  inferior  races,  arguments  from  antecedent 
probability  and  from  example  are  adduced  in  the  fol- 
lowing passage;  — 

"  There  exists  a  sentiment,  for  the  most  part  quite  unreason- 
able, against  the  gradual  extinction  of  an  inferior  race.  It  rests 
on  some  confusion  between  the  race  and  the  individnal,  as  if  the 
destruction  of  a  race  was  equivalent  to  the  destruction  of  a  large 
number  of  men.  It  is  nothing  of  the  kind  when  the  process  of 
extinction  works  silently  and  slowly  through  the  earlier  marriage 
of  members  of  the  superior  race,  through  their  greater  vitality 
under  equal  stress,  through  their  better  chances  of  getting  a  liveli- 
hood, or  through  their  prepotency  in  mixed  marriages.  That  the 
members  of  an  inferior  class  should  dislike  being  elbowed  out  of 
the  way  is  another  matter;  but  it  may  be  somewhat  brutally 
argued  that  whenever  two  individuals  struggle  for  a  single  place, 
one  must  yield,  and  that  there  will  be  no  more  unlia]i]>iness  on 
the  whole,  if  the   inferior  yield  to  the  superior  than  conversely, 


378  KI2s^DS  or  COMPOSITION. 

whereas  the  world  will  be  permanently  enriched  by  the  success  of 
the  superior.  The  conditions  of  happiness  are,  however,  too  com- 
plex to  be  disposed  of  by  a pvori  argument;  it  is  safest  to  appeal 
to  observation.  I  think  it  could  be  easily  shown  that  when  the 
differences  between  the  races  is  [iic]  not  so  great  as  to  divide  them 
into  obviously  different  classes,  and  where  their  language,  edu- 
cation, and  general  interests  are  the  same,  the  substitution  may 
take  place  gradually  without  any  unhuppiness.  Thus  the  move- 
ments of  commerce  have  introduced  fresh  and  vigorous  blood  into 
various  parts  of  England,  the  new-comers  have  intermarried  with 
the  residents,  and  their  characteristics  have  been  prepotent  in  the 
descendants  of  the  mixed  marriages.  I  have  referred  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  book  to  the  changes  of  type  in  the  English  nature  that 
have  occurred  during  the  last  few  hundred  years.  These  have 
been  effected  so  silently  that  we  only  know  of  them  by  the  residts."  ^ 

Arguments  that  strengthen  one  another  are  used  in 
the  following  passage:  — 

"  The  ordinary  observer  has  many  proofs  of  the  general  spherical 
form  of  the  earth,  among  which  may  be  mentioned  the  following : 
(1)  As  a  vessel  sails  away  from  the  land,  we  first  lose  sight  of 
her  hull,  next  of  her  lower  or  main  sails,  and  lastly  of  her  topsails 
and  pennants,  thus  clearly  showing  that  she  is  i^assing  over  a  con- 
vex or  bulging  surface.  (2)  The  reverse  of  this  also  holds  true ; 
for  the  mariner,  as  he  approaches  the  land,  first  sees  the  mountain- 
tops,  and  on  gradually  nearing  it,  the  lower  grounds  stage  by  stage 
make  their  appearance.  (3)  Had  the  earth's  surface  been  flat,  it 
would  have  been  all  at  once  illuminated  by  the  rays  of  the  sun ; 
but  being  convex  or  round,  each  place,  as  it  turns  from  west  to 
east,  has  its  sunrise,  noon,  sunset,  and  night  in  succession  —  one 
half  of  the  globe  being  thus  always  in  light  while  the  other  is  in 
darkness.  (4)  In  travelling  any  considerable  distance,  either  north 
or  south,  new  stars  gradually  come  into  view  in  the  direction  to 
which  the  traveller  is  advancing,  while  others  disappear  in  the 
direction  from  which  he  is  receding.  (5)  Many  navigators,  by 
constantly  sailing  in  one  direction,  or  nearly  so,  whether  due  east  or 

^  Trancis  Galton  :  Inquiries  into  Human  Faculty  and  its  Development' 
Influence  of  Man  upon  Race. 


ARGUMENT.  379 

due  west,  have  returned  to  the  port  from  which  they  set  out,  thus 
making  what  is  termed  the  circumnac'ujation  of  the  globe.  (6)  In 
consequence  of  the  round  form  of  the  earth,  the  dip  or  depression 
of  the  horizon  is  about  eight  inches  per  mile,  and  on  this  account 
engineers  in  cutting  canals  have  to  make  an  allowance  for  a  dip  of 
this  extent  in  oi'der  to  keep  the  water  at  a  uniform  level.  (7)  The 
shadow  which  the  earth  casts  on  the  moon  during  an  eclipse  is 
always  circular.  (8)  And  lastly,  the  earth  belonging  to  a  system 
or  brotherhood  [sicl,  the  other  members  of  which  are  globular,  the 
fair  presumption  is,  that  she  [^sic]  also  is  of  the  same  form."  ^ 

From  all  that  has  been  said,  it  is  plain  that  experience 
is  the  basis  on  which  every  argument  rests.  It  is 
experience  that  puts  us  in  possession  of  facts  ah  arguments 
and  teaches  us  how  to  draw  valid  inferences  experience, 
from  them.  Whether  the  foundations  of  belief  rest  ulti- 
mately upon  something  prior  to  experience  or  not,  it  is 
to  experience  that  we  habitually  appeal.  If,  then,  experi- 
ence is,  for  practical  purposes,  the  source  of  all  arguments, 
it  follows  that  absolute  certainty  is  very  rarely  attainable ; 
for  there  are  few  matters  in  which  experience  points  one 
way  and  one  way  only.  A  reasonable  probability  suffi- 
ciently strong  to  act  upon  is,  however,  usually  within  our 
reach. 

SECTION  V. 

ARRANGEMENT. 

The  object  of  every  argumentative  composition  should 
be  to  prove,  or  to  disprove,  the  proposition  in  dispute 
and  that  proposition  only.  Anything  that  does  not  help 
to  prove,  or  to  disprove,  the  proposition  has  no  place  in 
the  argument;  everything  that  does  help  should  be  so 

1  David  Page:  Advanced  Text-Book  of  Physical  Geography,  revised 
and  enlarged  by  Charles  Lapworth,  [chap.]  ii. 


380  KINDS  OF  COMrOSITION. 

Stated  that  its  bearing  on  the  argument  will  be  evident 
The  first  requisite  of  an  argument  is,  then,  unity.  Next 
in  importance  are  clearness  and  force.  These  three  quali- 
ties have  been  discussed  in  the  chapters  entitled  "  Choice 
of  Words,"  "Number  of  Words,"  and  "Arrangement." 
What  is  said  in  those  chapters  applies  to  argument  as 
to  other  kinds  of  composition  ;  but  in  regard  to  arrange- 
ment it  is  necessary  to  add  something  that  is  apphcable 
to  argumentative  composition  alone. 

The  importance  of  so  arranging  the  several  parts  of 
an  argumentative  composition  that  they  may  render  effec- 
importance      tivc  suDDort   to   oue   another   can  hardly  be 

of  good  .  ^  .  *' 

arrangement,  overestimated.  Forces  that  might  be  beaten 
in  detail  will  often  be  irresistible  if  skilfully  drawn  up 
and  massed  at  the  points  of  danger.  Eecognizing  this 
fact,  Demosthenes  at  the  beginning  of  his  "  Oration  on  the 
Crown  "  demanded  from  his  judges,  as  a  condition  of  fair 
play,  freedom  in  the  arrangement  as  well  as  in  the  selec- 
tion of  his  arguments.  Had  he  been  obliged  to  adopt  the 
arrangement  of  his  adversary  ^schines,  as  ^schines  de- 
sired, he  would  necessarily  have  given  undue  prominence 
to  the  arguments  of  his  adversary  and  undue  subordination 
to  his  own. 

"  You  shall  find,"  says  John  Quincy  Adams,  "hundreds  of  per- 
sons able  to  produce  a  crowd  of  good  ideas  upon  any  subject,  for 
one  that  can  marshal  them  to  the  best  advantage.  Disposition 
[methodical  arrangement]  is  to  the  orator  what  tactics,  or  the 
discipline  of  armies,  is  to  the  military  art.  And  as  the  balance 
of  victory  has  almost  always  been  turned  by  the  superiority  of 
tactics  and  of  discipline,  so  the  great  effects  of  eloquence  are  always 
produced  by  the  excellency  of  disposition.  There  is  no  part  of  the 
science,  in  which  the  consummate  orator  will  be  so  decidedly 
marked  out,  as  by  the  perfection  of  his  disposition."  ^ 

^  J.  Q.  Adams :  Lectures  on  Rhetoric  and  Oratory,  lect.  vii. 


ARGUMENT.  381 

Since,  then,  the  order  which  is  most  effective  under  some 
conditions  is  least  effective  under  others,  only  the  most 
general  rules  for  arrangement  can  be  given ;  but  there 
will  be  no  difficulty  in  applying  these  rules  if  the  prin- 
ciples which  underlie  them  are  once  thoroughly  under- 
stood. 

Should  a  reasoner  begin  by  stating  the  proposition  to 
be  proved  or  disproved,  or  should  he  lead  up  to  gij^ui^  ^^^ 

it    through  the  proof  ?  o'rXtroof 

We  have  already  seen  how  important  it  is  •'"""^^''"'^ 
that  a  reasoner  should  at  the  outset  ^  clearly  understand 
the  proposition  which  he  is  to  maintain ;  but  it  by  no 
means  follows  that  he  should  hasten  to  announce  that 
proposition  to  those  whom  he  would  convince  of  its  truth. 
His  first  object  should  be  to  secure  favorable  attention. 
If  the  proposition  is  familiar  to  the  persons  addressed, 
there  will  usually  be  some  advantage  in  beginning  with 
what  is  novel  in  the  proof ;  for  an  old  conclusion  acquires 
fresh  interest  when  regarded  from  a  new  point  of  view  or 
approached  by  a  new  path.  If  the  proposition,  whether 
familiar  or  not  to  the  persons  addressed,  is  likely  to 
awaken  hostility,  it  should  not  be  announced  until  steps 
have  been  taken  to  procure  for  it  a  favorable  reception. 
Often  the  best  course  to  this  end  is  to  begin  by  stating 
the  question  at  issue  without  indicating  the  desired  con- 
clusion until  some  of  the  arguments  on  each  side  have 
been  presented ;  or  it  may  be  wise  to  begin  by  securing 
assent  to  general  principles  from  which  the  desired 
conclusion  can  be  logically  deduced.  In  pursuing  either 
course,  a  reasoner  seems  to  invite  his  readers  or  hearers 
to  join  him  in  an  inquiry  for  the  truth.  This  inquiry 
results,  if  he  is   successful,  in  convincing  them  of   the 

1  See  pages  328,  329. 


382  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

justness  of  his  conclusion  by  leading  them  to  convince 
themselves;  it  results,  if  he  is  unsuccessful,  in  inducing 
them  to  give  attention  to  evidence  to  which  they  would 
have  turned  a  deaf  ear  had  they  known  to  what  conclu- 
sion it  led. 

In  the  absence  of  such  considerations  as  these,  the 
better  course  usually  is  first  to  state  what  is  to  be  proved, 
and  then  to  prove  it.  This  course  is  particularly  to  be 
recommended  if  the  subject  is  abstruse  or  if  the  argu- 
ments are  numerous,  for  knowledge  of  the  proposition 
serves  as  a  clue  to  difficult  reasoning.  This  course  is 
usually  followed  by  Burke.     For  example:  — 

"  When  Parliament  repealed  the  Stamp  Act  in  the  year  1766,  I 
afRrm,  first,  that  the  Americans  did  not  in  consequence  of  this 
measure  call  upon  you  to  give  up  the  former  Parliamentary  reve- 
nue which  subsisted  in  that  country ;  or  even  any  one  of  the 
articles  which  compose  it.  I  affirm,  also,  that  when,  departing 
from  the  maxims  of  that  repeal,  you  revived  the  scheme  of  taxa- 
tion, and  thereby  filled  the  minds  of  the  Colonists  with  new  jealousy, 
and  all  sorts  of  apprehensions,  then  it  was  that  they  quarrelled 
with  the  old  taxes,  as  well  as  the  new ;  then  it  was,  and  not  till 
then,  that  they  questioned  all  the  parts  of  your  legislative  power ; 
and  by  the  battery  of  such  questions  have  shaken  the  solid  struc- 
ture of  this  Empire  to  its  deepest  foundations. 

"Of  those  two  propositions  I  shall,  before  I  have  done,  give 
such  convincing,  such  damning  proof,  that  however  the  contrary 
[propositions]  may  be  whispered  in  circles,  or  bawled  in  newspapers, 
they  nevermore  will  dare  to  raise  their  voices  in  this  House."  ^ 

If  the  proposition  is  given  at  the  outset,  it  should  be 
stated  with  the  utmost  clearness  and  brevity,  in  order 
statement  of  that  it  may  be  at  once  understood  and  that  it 
the  proposition.  ^^^  i^^  easily  kept  m  mind  from  the  beginning 
of  the  argument  to  the  end. 

•  Bnrke:  Speech  on  American  Taxation,  April  19,  1774. 


ARGUMENT.  383 

"i  found  from  experience,  as  well  as  theory,"  writes  Scarlett 
(_Lord  Abinger),  one  of  the  most  successful  of  English  advocates, 
"that  the  most  essential  part  of  speaking, is  to  make  yourself  un- 
derstood. For  this  purpose  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  the 
Court  and  jury  should  know  as  early  as  possible  de  qua  re  agilur. 
It  was  my  habit, 'therefore,  to  state  in  the  simplest  form  that 
the  truth  and  the  case  would  admit  the  proposition  of  which  I 
maintained  the  affirmative  and  the  defendant's  counsel  the 
negative."  ^ 

If  the  proposition  is  complex,  it  may  need  to  be 
analyzed  into  its  elements.  When  this  is  done,  each 
part  should  be  stated  with  the  utmost  brevity  con- 
sistent with  clearness,  and  all  the  parts  should  be 
arranged  in  logical  order.  In  the  subsequent  discussion, 
the  order  in  which  the  elements  of  the  proposition  were 
presented  in  the  preliminary  statement  should  be  fol- 
lowed; otherwise  that  statement  does  more  harm  than 
good.  No  practice  could  be  more  faulty  than  that  ascribed 
to  a  celebrated  American  preacher,  —  the  practice  of  mak- 
ingr  a  formal  announcement  of  what  is  to  come  and  then 
going  on  as  if  no  such  announcement  had  been  made. 

In  the  arrangement  of  proof,  the  most  effective  order 
is  usually  that  which  places  arguments  from  ante- 
cedent probability  first,  those  from  example  order  of 
second,  and  those  from  sign  last.  If  argu-  ='^g"'-'^«ts. 
ments  from  antecedent  probability  came  last,  they  might 
be  supposed  to  be  not  instruments  of  proof,  but  explana- 
tions of  facts  already  proved ;  and  as  mere  explanations 
they  would  of  course  have  no  weight  with  one  who  de- 
nied the  proposition  which  they  explain.  Coming  first, 
they  raise  a  presumption  ^  in  favor  of  the  proposition  to  be 

1  Lord  Abinger:  Autobiography;  in  Peter  Campbell  Scarlett's  "  Mem< 
oir  of  the  Right  Honourable  James,  First  Lord  Abiuger,"  chap.  xvii. 

2  See  page  332. 


384  KINDS   OF   COMPOSITION. 

proved.  This  presumption  is  strengthened  by  argumenta 
from  example,  which  furnish  evidence  concerning  similar 
occurrences,  and  by  those  from  sign,  which  furnish  evidence 
tending  to  show  that  what  was  likely  to  occur  did  occur. 
Arguments  from  antecedent  probability,  since  they  sug- 
gest a  cause  or  causes,  point  to  the  principle  which  is 
applicable  to  the  case  in  hand ;  those  from  example  fur- 
nish instances  of  its  application  in  other  cases  ;  those 
from  sign  tend  to  prove  that  it  applies  in  the  present 
case.  "  Mr.  Burke,  in  his  speech  on  the  Nabob  of  Arcot's 
debts,  in  endeavoring  to  prove  that  India  had  been  re- 
duced to  a  condition  of  extreme  want  and  wretchedness, 
first  presents  the  causes  in  operation  to  produce  it ;  then, 
examples  of  the  operation  of  those  causes  ;  and  finally 
particular  signs  of  the  fact.  The  mind  very  readily 
receives  the  whole  statement,  because,  from  the  view  of 
the  cause,  the  effects  are  naturally  anticipated."  ^  In  legal 
opinions,  it  is  usually  advisable  first  to  lay  down  the  prin- 
ciple that  governs  the  case,  —  a  form  of  the  argument  from 
antecedent  probability,  —  and  then  to  cite  precedents,  that 
is,  examples  of  similar  cases ;  in  a  treatise  on  medicine, 
it  is  usually  advisable  first  to  give  the  theory  of  a  course 
of  treatment,  and  then  to  cite  examples  from  practice. 
If  the  examples  came  first,  they  might  be  regarded  as  ex- 
ceptions to  the  general  rule ;  coming  after  the  general 
rule,  they  appear  to  be  instances  under  it. 

Other  considerations  come  into  play  when  a  reasoner 

is  obliged  to  meet  a  formidable  opponent ;  for  until  he 

has  weakened  the  impression  produced  by  his  opponent's 

argument  he  can  make  no  headway  with  his 

Rsfutation.  . 

own.     It  IS,  however,  unv/ise  to  treat  adverse 
arguments   as   if  they  were  very  serious,  for  this  is  to 

^  H.  N.  Da}' :  The  Art  of  Discourse,  part  ii   clinp  v.  sect.  161. 


AKGUMENT.  385 

emphasize  their  importance ;  it  is  equally  unwise  to 
neglect  them  altogether,  for  eDtire  neglect  raises  the 
suspicion  that  they  are  not  answered  because  they  can- 
not be  ;  and  it  is  a  still  greater  error  to  misstate  them, 
for  misstatement  is  almost  sure  to  be  detected,  and,  if 
detected,  is  likely  to  be  judged  even  more  severely  than 
the  facts  warrant.  Prudence,  as  well  as  honesty,  pre- 
scribes that  the  arguments  of  an  opponent  shall  be  fairly 
met. 

Necessary  as  it  is  to  answer  objections,  it  is  generally 
injudicious  either  to  begin  or  to  end  an  argument  with 
an  elaborate  refutation  of  an  opponent's ;  for  to  do  so 
is  to  fix  attention  on  that  which  we  wish  forgotten. 
As  a  rule,  the  refutation  of  objections  should  be  near  the 
middle  of  the  discourse,  so  that  the  arguments  refuted 
may  not  make  either  the  first  or  the  last  impression.  The 
beginning  and  the  end  of  an  argument,  as  of  a  play,  are 
the  most  important  parts. 

It  is  often  advantageous  to  begin  by  making  a  general 
answer  to  the  arguments  on  the  other  side,  but  to  post- 
pone refutation  in  detail  till  a  more  convenient  season. 
If  this  course  is  pursued,  it  is  well  to  say  distinctly  that 
further  discussion  is  waived  for  the  time  being  only.  After 
a  reasoner  has  made  out  a  prima  facie  case,  he  can  dis- 
pose of  objections  with  less  trouble  and  with  greater  effect. 
Those  who  aim  at  victory  rather  than  at  truth  some- 
times make  a  dishonest  use  of  their  right  to  waive  a 
point,  by  forgetting  to  take  it  up  again ;  but  this  strata- 
gem usually  ensnares  the  contriver. 
17 


\ 

386  KINDS  OF   COMPOSITION. 


SECTION   VI. 

PERSUASION. 

Argument,  if  understood  to  mean  merely  the  process 
of  convincing,  seldom  occurs  by  itself ;  it  is  usually  com- 
Persuasiona     biucd   witli   PERSUASION,   whicli   iucludes   all 

useful  adjunct 

toargumeut.  those  proccsses  that  make  the  persons  ad- 
dressed williag  to  be  convinced  or  ready  to  carry  con- 
viction into  action.  Unlike  argument,  persuasion  is 
addressed  not  so  much  to  the  intellect  as  to  the  feelings. 

To  substitute  an  appeal  to  the  feelings  for  argument 
is,  of  course,  never  justifiable.  "  It  is  dishonest  to  try 
to  convert  excited  feeling  into  evidence  of  facts  which 
would  justify  it.  To  say,  '  There  must  be  a  God  because 
I  love  him,'  is  just  like  saying,  '  That  man  must  be  a  rogue 
because  I  hate  him,'  which  many  people  do  say,  but  not 
wisely."  ^  Equally  dishonest  is  the  argumentum  ad  homi- 
nem  ;  ^  for  this  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  an  attempt 
to  make  an  appeal  to  prejudice  or  passion  seem  like  proof. 
In  no  case  is  persuasion  an  equivalent  for  argument. 

The  following  passages  from  the  report  of  the  argu- 
ments before  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States  in 
the  recent  income-tax  cases  (1895)  are  persuasive  rather 
than  convincing :  — 

"  In  conclusion,  IMr.  Carter  said  the  law  had  been  enacted  by 
the  representatives  of  the  people,  acting  in  their  legitimate  and 
uncontrollable  sphere  as  the  taxing  power  of  the  government, 
elected  by  a  great  popular  majority,  and  that  the  expression  of  an 

^  Sir  James  Fitzjames  Stephen :  Liberty,  Equality,  and  Fraternity, 
chap.  vij. 

2  See  page  347. 


ARGUMENT.  387 

opinion  by  that  means  could  always  be  accepted  and  considered  as 
final.  A  triumphant  majority,  he  said,  firm  in  the  possession  of  a 
view  which  they  believed  to  be  just  and  right,  would  find  a  way  to 
the  accomplishment  of  their  purpose,  if  need  be,  over  the  ruins  of 
constitutions  and  of  courts.  It  was  the  wise  thing  not  to  provoke 
such  a  contest. 

"  Mr.  Carter  spoke  two  hours  and  a  half  and  was  followed  by 
Mr.  Choate.     Mr.  Choate,  in  opening,  said  :  — 

" '  It  never  would  have  occurred  to  me  to  present  [as]  either  an 
opening  or  a  closing  argument  to  this  great  and  learned  court,  that 
if,  in  their  wisdom,  they  found  it  necessary  to  protect  a  suitor  who 
sought  here  to  invoke  the  protection  of  the  constitution  which  was 
created  for  us  all,  possibly  the  popular  wrath  might  sweep  the 
court  away.  It  is  the  first  time  I  ever  heard  that  argument  pre- 
sented to  this  court  or  any  other,  and  I  trust  it  will  be  the  last. 

" '  I  thought  until  to-day  that  there  was  a  constitution  of  the 
United  States,  and  that  the  business  of  the  executive  arm  was  to 
uphold  that  constitution.  I  thought  that  this  court  was  created  for 
the  purpose  of  maintaining  the  constitution  as  against  unlawful 
conduct  on  the  part  of  Congress.  It  is  news  to  me  that  Congress 
is  the  sole  judge  of  the  measure  of  the  powers  confided  to  it  by  the 
constitution,  and  it  is  also  news  to  me  that  that  great  fundamental 
principle  that  underlies  the  constitution,  namely,  the  equality  of  all 
men  before  the  law,  has  ceased  to  exist. ' "  ^ 

Though  not  an  equivalent  for  argument,  persuasion  is  a 
useful  adjunct  to  it.  Cold  logic  alone  may  convince  the 
persons  addressed,  but  it  will  not  take  firm  hold  of  them 
unless  they  already  feel  a  vital  interest  in  the  subject. 
It  is  the  "  instilment  of  conviction  "  ^  (to  quote  Matthew 
Arnold's  definition  of  persuasion)  that  makes  conviction 
hold.  Conviction  alone,  moreover,  does  not  influence  the 
will.  To  win  assent  to  a  general  proposition  is  one  thing ; 
to  secure  adhesion  to  a  doctrine  that  has  a  personal  appli- 
cation and  requires  exertion  is  another  and  a  far  more 

1  As  reported  in  the  Boston  Daily  Advertiser,  March  13,  1895. 

2  Matthew  Arnold :  Eeeays  in  Critioism ;  The  Literary  Influence  of 
Academies 


388  KINDS  or  COMPOSITION. 

difl&cult  thing.  Most  difficult  of  all  is  the  task  of  persuad- 
ing a  man  against  his  original  convictions.  Such  a  triumph 
was  achieved  by  Whitefield  over  Benjamin  Franklin :  — 

"  The  sight  of  their  miserable  situation  [that  of  the  children  in 
Georgia]  inspir'd,"  says  Franklin,  "the  benevolent  heart  of  Mr, 
Whitefield  with  the  idea  of  building  an  Orphan  House  there,  in 
which  they  might  be  supported  and  educated.  Returning  north- 
ward, he  preach'd  up  this  charity  and  made  large  collections,  for 
his  eloquence  had  a  wonderful  power  over  the  hearts  and  purses  of 
his  hearers  of  which  I  myself  was  an  instance. 

"  I  did  not  disapprove  of  the  design  but  as  Georgia  was  then 
destitute  of  materials  and  workmen  and  it  was  proposed  to  send 
them  from  Philadelphia  at  a  great  expense,  I  thought  it  would 
have  been  better  to  have  built  the  house  here  and  brought  the 
children  to  it.  This  I  advis'd ;  but  he  was  resolute  in  his  first 
project,  rejected  my  counsel  and  I  therefore  refus'd  to  contribute. 
I  happened  soon  after  to  attend  one  of  his  sermons  in  the  course 
of  which  I  perceived  he  intended  to  finish  with  a  collection,  and 
I  silently  resolved  he  should  get  nothing  from  me.  I  had  in  my 
pocket  a  handful  of  copper  money,  three  or  four  silver  dollars, 
and  five  pistoles  in  gold.  As  he  proceeded  I  began  to  soften  and 
concluded  to  give  the  coppers.  Another  stroke  of  his  oratory 
made  me  asham'd  of  that  and  determin'd  me  to  give  the  silver ; 
and  he  finish'd  so  admirably  that  I  empti'd  my  pocket  wholly  into 
the  collector's  dish,  gold  and  all."  ^ 

Sometimes  the  work  of  persuasion  is  done  by  means  of 
an  exordium  which  insures  a  favorable  reception  for  what 
Persuasion  in    is  to  comc,  or  of  a  pcroratiou  which  carries 

exordiums  and    -  ,,  ,.  _..  ,.  , 

perorations,  homc  thc  conclusion.  it  is  m  exordiums  and 
perorations  that  a  young  writer  often  fails :  he  does  not 
know  how  to  get  at  his  subject  or  how  to  get  away  from  it. 
He  should  beware  of  putting  in  a  word  of  introduction 
that  is  not  necessary  to  prepare  the  way  for  his  argument, 
and  of  adding  a  word  at  the  end  that  is  not  necessary  to 

1  Benjamin  Franklin :  Works,  vol.  i. ;  Autobiography.  Edited  by  John 
Bigelow. 


ARGUMENT.  389 

enforce  his  conclusion,    "  Is  he  never  going  to  begin  ? " 
"  Will  he  never  have  done  ? "  are  questions  equally  fatal. 

The  passage  with  which  Webster  opened  the  White 
murder  case  is  a  model  exordium :  — 

"  I  am  little  accustomed,  gentlemen,  to  the  part  which  I  am  now 
attempting  to  perform.  Hardly  more  than  once  or  twice  has  it 
happened  to  me  to  be  concerned  on  the  side  of  the  government  in 
any  criminal  prosecution  whatever ;  and  never,  until  the  present 
occasion,  in  any  case  affecting  life. 

"  But  I  very  much  regret  that  it  should  have  been  thought 
necessary  to  suggest  to  you  that  I  am  brought  here  to  '  hurry  you 
against  the  law  and  beyond  the  evidence.'  I  hope  I  have  too  much 
regard  for  justice,  and  too  much  respect  for  my  own  character,  to 
attempt  either ;  and  were  I  to  make  such  attempt,  I  am  sure  that 
in  this  court  nothing  can  be  carried  against  the  law,  and  that 
gentlemen,  intelligent  and  just  as  you  are,  are  not,  by  any  power, 
to  be  hurried  beyond  the  evidence.  Though  I  could  well  have 
wished  to  shun  this  occasion,  I  have  not  felt  at  liberty  to  withhold 
my  professional  assistance,  when  it  is  supposed  that  I  may  be  in 
some  degree  useful  in  investigating  and  discovering  the  truth 
respecting  this  most  extraordinary  murder.  It  has  seemed  to  be  a 
duty  incumbent  on  me,  as  on  every  other  citizen,  to  do  my  best 
and  my  utmost  to  bring  to  light  the  perpetrators  of  this  crime. 
Against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  as  an  individual,  I  cannot  have  the 
slightest  prejudice.  I  would  not  do  him  the  smallest  injury  or 
injustice.  But  I  do  not  affect  to  be  indifferent  to  the  discovery  and 
the  punishment  of  this  deep  guilt.  I  cheerfully  share  in  the  op- 
probrium, how  gi'eat  soever  it  may  be,  which  is  cast  on  those  who 
feel  and  manifest  an  anxious  concern  that  all  who  had  a  part  in 
planning,  or  a  hand  in  executing,  this  deed  of  midnight  assassina- 
tion, may  be  brought  to  answer  for  their  enormous  crime  at  the  bar 
of  public  justice."  ^ 

The  well-known  passage  with  which  Burke  ended  his 
speech  in  the  impeachment  of  Warren  Hastings  —  a  pas- 
sage which,  it  is  said,  was  written  sixteen  times  —  is  a 

1  Daniel  Webster  :  Legal  Arguments;  The  Murder  of  Captain  Joseph 
White,  April  6,  1830. 


390  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

model  peroration.     So  is  the  conclusion  of  the  "Eeflec* 
tions  on  the  Eevolution  in  France  " :  — 

"  I  wish  my  countrymen  rather  to  recommend  to  our  neighbours 
the  example  of  the  British  constitution,  than  to  take  models  from 
them  for  the  improvement  of  our  own.  In  the  former  they  have 
got  an  invaluable  treasm-e.  They  are  not,  I  think,  without  some 
causes  of  apprehension  and  complaint ;  but  these  they  do  not  owe 
to  their  constitution,  but  to  their  own  conduct.  I  think  our  happy 
situation  owing  to  our  constitution  ;  but  owing  to  the  whole  of  it, 
and  not  to  any  part  singly ;  owing  in  a  great  measure  to  what  we 
have  left  standing  in  our  several  reviews  and  reformations,  as  well 
as  to  what  we  have  altered  or  superadded.  Our  people  will  find 
employment  enough  for  a  truly  patriotic,  free,  and  independent 
spirit,  in  guarding  what  they  possess  from  violation.  I  would  not 
exclude  alteration  neither ;  but  even  when  I  changed,  it  should  be 
to  preserve.  I  should  be  led  to  my  remedy  by  a  great  grievance. 
In  what  I  did,  I  should  follow  the  example  of  our  ancestors.  I 
would  make  the  reparation  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  style  of  the 
building.  A  politic  caution,  a  guarded  circumspection,  a  moral 
rather  than  a  complexional  timidity,  were  among  the  ruling  prin- 
ciples of  our  forefathers  in  their  most  decided  conduct.  Not  being 
illuminated  with  the  light  of  which  the  gentlemen  of  France  tell 
us  they  have  got  so  abundant  a  share,  they  acted  under  a  strong 
impression  of  the  ignorance  and  fallibility  of  mankind.  He  that 
had  made  them  thus  fallible  rewarded  them  for  having  in  their 
conduct  attended  to  their  nature.  Let  us  imitate  their  caution, 
if  we  wish  to  deserve  their  fortune,  or  to  retain  their  bequests. 
Let  us  add,  if  we  please  —  but  let  us  preserve  what  they  have  left ; 
and,  standing  on  the  firm  ground  of  the  British  constitution,  let  us 
be  satisfied  to  admire  rather  than  attempt  to  follow  in  their 
desperate  flights  the  aeronauts  of  France. 

"I  have  told  you  candidly  my  sentiments.  I  think  they  are 
not  likely  to  alter  yours.  I  do  not  know  that  they  ought.  You 
are  young ;  you  cannot  guide,  but  must  follow  the  fortune  of  your 
country.  But  hereafter  they  may  be  of  some  use  to  you,  in  some 
future  form  which  your  commonwealth  may  take.  In  the  present 
it  can  hardly  remain ;  but  before  its  final  settlement  it  may  be 
obliged  to  pass,  as  one  of  our  poets  says,  '  through  great  varieties 


AEGUMENT.  391 

of  untried  being,'  and  in  all  its  transmigrations  to  be  purified  by 
fixe  and  blood. 

"  I  have  little  to  recommend  my  opinions  but  long  observation 
and  much  impartiality.  They  come  from  one  who  has  been  no 
tool  of  power,  no  flatterer  of  greatness ;  and  who  in  his  last  acts 
does  not  wish  to  belie  the  tenor  of  his  life.  They  come  from  one, 
almost  the  whole  of  whose  public  exertion  has  been  a  struggle  for 
the  liberty  of  others  ;  from  one  in  whose  breast  no  anger  durable 
or  vehement  has  ever  been  kindled,  but  by  what  he  considered  as 
tyranny;  and  who  snatches  from  his  share  in  the  endeavours 
which  are  used  by  good  men  to  discredit  opulent  oppression,  the 
hours  he  has  employed  on  your  affairs ;  and  who  in  so  doing  per- 
suades himself  he  has  not  departed  from  his  usual  office.  They 
come  from  one  who  desires  honours,  distinctions,  and  emoluments, 
but  little ;  and  who  expects  them  not  at  all ;  who  has  no  contempt 
for  fame,  and  no  fear  of  obloquy ;  who  shuns  contention,  though 
he  will  hazard  an  opinion :  from  one  who  wishes  to  preserve  con- 
sistency ;  but  who  would  preserve  consistency  by  varying  his  means 
to  secure  the  unity  of  his  end;  and,  when  the  equipoise  of  the 
vessel  in  which  he  sails  may  be  endangered  by  overloading  it 
upon  one  side,  is  desirous  of  carrying  the  small  weight  of  hia 
reasons  to  that  which  may  preserve  its  equipoise."  ^ 

A  whole  speech  may  be  so  framed  as  to  combine  per- 
suasion with  argument  so  closely  that  it  is  hard  to 
separate  them.  Familiar  examples  of  this  method  are 
Patrick  Henry's  speech  before  the  Convention  of  Dele- 
gates, March  28, 1775,  and  Henry  Ward  Beecher's  speech 
at  Liverpool,  October  16,  1863.^  Another  example  is  one 
of  Sydney  Smith's  speeches  in  support  of  Lord  Grey's 
reform  bill :  — 

"  Mr.  Bailiff,  I  have  spoken  so  often  on  this  subject,  that  1  am 
sure  both  you  and  the  gentlemen  here  present  will  be  obliged  to 
me  for  saying  but  little,  and  that  favour  I  am  as  wUling  to  confer, 

^  Burke :  Reflections  on  the  Revolution  in  France. 
,  2  This  speech  is  given  in  George  P.  Baker's  "  Specimens  of  Argumen 
tation." 


392  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

as  you  can  be  to  receive  it.  I  feel  most  deeply  the  event  which  has 
taken  place,^  because,  by  putting  the  two  Houses  of  Parliament  in 
collision  with  each  other,  it  will  impede  the  public  business,  and 
diminish  the  public  prosperity.  I  feel  it  as  a  churchman,  because 
I  cannot  but  blush  to  see  so  many  dignitaries  of  the  church 
arrayed  against  the  wishes  and  happiness  of  the  people.  I  feel  it 
more  than  all,  because  I  believe  it  will  sow  the  seeds  of  deadly  hatred 
between  the  aristocracy  and  the  great  mass  of  the  people.  The  loss 
of  the  bill  I  do  not  feel,  and  for  the  best  of  aU  possible  reasons  — 
because  1  have  not  the  slightest  idea  that  it  is  lost.  I  have  no 
more  doubt,  before  the  expiration  of  the  winter,  that  this  bill  will 
pass,  than  I  have  that  the  annual  tax  bills  wUl  pass,  and  greater 
certainty  than  this  no  man  can  have,  for  Franklin  tells  us,  there 
are  but  two  things  certain  in  this  world  — ■  death  and  taxes.  As 
for  the  possibility  of  the  House  of  Lords  preventing  ere  long  a 
reform  of  Parliament,  1  hold  it  to  be  the  most  absurd  notion  that 
*ver  entered  into  human  imagination.  I  do  not  mean  to  be  dis- 
respectful, but  the  attempt  of  the  Lords  to  stop  the  progress  of 
reform,  reminds  me  very  forcibly  of  the  great  storm  of  Sidmouth, 
and  of  the  conduct  of  the  excellent  Mrs.  Partington  on  that  occa- 
sion. In  the  winter  of  1824,  there  set  in  a  great  flood  upon  that 
town  —  the  tide  rose  to  an  incredible  height  — •  the  waves  rushed 
in  upon  the  houses,  and  everything  was  threatened  with  destruc- 
tion. In  the  midst  of  this  sublime  and  terrible  storm.  Dame 
Partington,  who  lived  upon  the  beach,  was  seen  at  the  door  of  her 
house  with  mop  and  pattens,  trundling  her  mop,  squeezing  out  the 
sea-water,  and  vigorously  pushing  away  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  The 
Atlantic  was  roused.  Mrs.  Partington's  spirit  was  up;  but  I 
need  not  tell  you  that  the  contest  was  unequal.  The  Atlantic 
Ocean  beat  Mrs.  Partington.  She  was  excellent  at  a  slop,  or  a 
puddle,  but  she  should  not  have  meddled  with  a  tempest.  Gen- 
tlemen, be  at  your  ease  —  be  quiet  and  steady.  You  will  beat 
Mrs.  Partington. 

"  They  tell  you,  gentlemen,  in  the  debates  by  which  we  have 
been  lately  occupied,  that  the  bill  is  not  justified  by  experience. 
I  do  not  think  this  true,  but  if  it  were  true,  nations  are  some- 
times compelled  to  act  without  experience  for  their  guide,  and  to 
trust  to  their  own  sagacity  for  the  anticipation  of  consequences. 

1  The  rejection  of  the  bill  by  the  House  of  Lords. 


ARGUMENT.  393 

The  instances  where  this  country  has  been  compelled  thus  to  act 
have  been  so  eminently  successful,  that  I  see  no  cause  for  fear, 
even  if  we  were  acting  in  the  manner  imputed  to  us  by  our  ene- 
mies. What  precedents  and  what  experience  were  there  at  the 
Reformation,  when  the  country,  with  one  unanimous  effort,  pushed 
out  the  Pope,  and  his  grasping  and  ambitious  clergy  ?  —  What  ex- 
perience, when  at  the  Revolution  we  drove  away  our  ancient 
race  of  kings,  and  chose  another  family  more  congenial  to  our  free 
principles  ?  —  And  yet  to  those  two  events,  contrary  to  experience, 
and  unguided  by  precedents,  we  owe  all  our  domestic  happiness, 
and  civil  and  religious  freedom  —  and  having  got  rid  of  corrupt 
priests  and  despotic  kings,  by  our  sense  and  our  courage,  are  we  now 
to  be  intimidated  by  the  awful  danger  of  extinguishing  Borough- 
mongers,  and  shaking  from  our  necks  the  ignominious  yoke 
which  their  baseness  has  imposed  upon  it  ?  ^  Go  on,  they  say,  as 
you  have  done  for  these  hundred  years  last  past.  I  answer,  it  is 
impossible  —  five  hundred  people  now  write  and  read,  where  one 
hundred  wrote  and  read  fifty  years  ago.  The  iniquities  and  enor- 
mities of  the  borough  system  are  now  known  to  the  meanest  of  the 
people.  You  have  a  different  sort  of  men  to  deal  with  —  you  must 
change  because  the  beings  whom  you  govern  are  changed.  After 
all,  and  to  be  short,  I  must  say  that  it  has  always  appeared  to  me 
to  be  the  most  absolute  nonsense  that  we  cannot  be  a  great,  or  a 
rich  and  happy  nation,  without  suffering  ourselves  to  be  bought 
and  sold  every  five  years  like  a  pack  of  negro  slaves.  I  hope  I  am 
not  a  very  rash  man,  but  I  would  launch  boldly  into  this  experi- 
ment without  any  fear  of  consequences,  and  I  believe  there  is  not 
a  man  here  present  who  would  not  cheerfully  embark  with  me. 
As  to  the  enemies  of  the  bill,  who  pretend  to  be  reformers,  I  know 
them,  I  believe,  better  than  you  do,  and  I  earnestly  caution  you 
against  them.  You  will  have  no  more  of  reform  than  they  are 
compelled  to  grant  —  you  will  have  no  reform  at  all,  if  they  can 
avoid  it  —  you  will  be  hurried  into  a  war  to  turn  your  attention 
from  reform.  They  do  not  understand  you  —  they  will  not  believe 
in  the  improvement  you  have  made  —  they  think  the  English  of 
the  present  day  are  as  the  English  of  the  times  of  Queen  Anne  or 
George  the  First.  They  know  no  more  of  the  present  state  of 
their  own  country,  than  of  the  state  of  the  Esquimaux  Indians. 

17*  1  See  pages  54,  55. 


394  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Gentlemen,  I  view  the  ignorance  of  the  present  state  of  the  country 
with  the  most  serious  concern,  and  I  believe  they  will  one  day  or 
another  waken  into  conviction  with  horror  and  dismay.  I  will 
omit  no  means  of  rousing  them  to  a  sense  of  their  danger ;  — 
for  this  object  I  cheerfully  sign  the  petition  proposed  by  Dr.  King- 
lake,  which  I  consider  to  be  the  wisest  ^  and  most  moderate  of 
the  two. "  a 

On  the  methods  of  persuasion  very  little  that  is  of 
practical  value  can  be  said.  All  that  one  may  usefully 
Principles  of  do  is  to  suggest  a  few  general  principles,  in 
persuasion.  ^^^  application  of  which  good  sense,  right  feel- 
incr,  and  knowledge  of  human  nature  will  be  of  more 
avail  than  any  formal  rules  could  be,  however  skilfully 
framed  or  deftly  carried  into  practice. 

Since  persuasion,  as  has  already  been  said,  is  addressed 
to  the  feelings,  its  methods  must  be  those  which  lead 
to  success  in  reaching  the  feelings.  Now,  to  make  men 
feel  strongly,  it  is  of  little  use  to  tell  them  that  they 
ought  to  feel  strongly ;  for  neither  reason  nor  duty  can 
govern  the  issues  of  the  heart.  What  we  may  do  is 
to  express  our  own  feeling  and  trust  to  the  contagion 
of  sympathy ;  or  we  may  take  our  readers  or  hearers  to 
the  sources  of  feeling  and  thus  bring  them,  as  far  as  is 
possible,  under  the  influences  by  which  we  have  ourselves 
been  moved.  "  Deductions,"  says  Newman,  "  have  no 
power  of' persuasion.  The  heart  is  commonly  reached,  not 
through  the  reason,  but  through  the  imagination,  by 
means  of  direct  impressions,  by  the  testimony  of  facts 
and  events,  by  history,  by  description.  Persons  influence 
us,  voices  melt  us,  looks  subdue  us,  deeds  inflame  us."  ^ 

1  "  Wisest  and  most  moderate  of  the  two  "  ? 

3  Sydney   Smith:    Speech   at    Taunton    (1831). 

8  Cardinal  Newman :  Discussions  and  Arguments.  Quoted  by  Lewis 
E.  Gates  in  "  Selections  from  the  Prose  Writings  of  John  Henry  Cardinal 
Newman." 


ARGUMENT.  395 

In  persuasion  a  few  concrete  examples  are  of  more 
avail  tt;ian  pages  of  generalities ;  for  it  is  individual  in- 
stances that  reach  the  feelings.  A  philanthro-  priucipie  of 
pist  who  wishes  to  raise  money  for  a  public  '^°^^'^^  ^^^^^ 
charity  will  gain  little  by  setting  forth  in  general  terms 
the  worthiness  of  the  object ;  it  is  by  presenting  spe- 
cific needs  and  by  showing  that  every  additional  dollar 
will  do  something  toward  their  relief,  that  he  achieves 
his  purpose.  Had  Mrs.  Stowe  written  a  treatise  on  the 
evils  of  slavery,  she  would  have  won  little  attention ;  it 
was  by  putting  some  of  those  evils  into  concrete  form 
that  she  aroused  indignation  against  them.^ 

In  persuasive  discourse  wordiness  is  fatal  to  success. 
Sometimes  repetition ^  is  effective;  but  as  a  rule  few 
words  are  better  than  many.  Keserved  force,^  principle  of 
which  tells  for  much  in  all  kinds  of  compo-  reserved  force. 
sition,  cannot  be  overestimated  as  an  instrument  of  per- 
suasion. Webster's  words,  "It  is,  sir,  as  I  have  said,  a 
small  college,  and  yet  there  are  those  who  love  it,"  *  to- 
gether with  his  manifest  effort  to  repress  his  emotion, 
did  more  for  Dartmouth  College  than  could  have  been 
effected  by  hours  of  direct  appeal. 

If  it  is  impossible  to  reach  the  desired  result  without 
making  the  process  of  persuasion  somewhat  long,  care 
should  be  taken  not  to  begin  by  striking  too  pHncipieof 
high  a  key.  If  the  pitch  is  sustained  till  the  ""'"''''• 
end,  the  result  is  monotony ;  if  it  is  not  sustained,  the 
result  is  an  anti-climax,  and  in  persuasion  the  principle  of 
climax  ^  should  never  be  violated.  A  passage  that  would 
be  ridiculous  as  an  exordium  may  be  very  effective  as 
a  peroration.     Such  is  the  paragraph  with  which  Lord 

1  See  the  passage  from  George  Eliot,  page  131. 

2  See  pages  150-153.  ■*  See  page  172. 

'  See  pages  171-174.  »  See  pages  192-195. 


396  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Brougham  ends  his  speech  in  defence  of  Queen  Caroline,  a 
passage  which  he  is  said  to  have  written  twenty  times : 

"  Such,  my  lords,  is  the  Case  now  before  you  I  Such  is  the  evi- 
dence in  support  of  this  measui-e  —  evidence  inadequate  to  prove 
a  debt  —  impotent  to  deprive  of  a  civil  right  —  ridiculous  to  con- 
vict of  the  lowest  offence  —  scandalous  if  brought  forward  to  sup- 
port a  charge  of  the  highest  nature  which  the  law  knows  — 
monstrous  to  ruin  the  honour,  to  blast  the  name  of  an  English 
Queen  1  What  shall  I  say,  then,  if  this  is  the  proof  by  which  an 
act  of  judicial  legislation,  a  parliamentary  sentence,  an  ex  post 
facto  law,  is  sought  to  be  passed  against  this  defenceless  woman  ? 
My  lords,  I  pray  you  to  pause.  I  do  earnestly  beseech  you  to  take 
heed !  You  are  standing  upon  the  brink  of  a  precipice  —  then  be- 
ware I  It  will  go  forth  your  judgment,  if  sentence  shall  go  against 
the  Queen.  But  it  will  be  the  only  judgment  you  ever  pro- 
nounced, which,  instead  of  reaching  its  object,  will  return  and 
bound  back  upon  those  who  give  it.  Save  the  country,  my  lords, 
from  the  horrors  of  this  catastrophe  —  save  yourselves  from  this 
peril  —  rescue  that  country,  of  which  you  are  the  ornaments,  but 
in  which  you  can  flourish  no  longer,  when  severed  from  the  people, 
than  the  blossom  when  cut  off  from  the  roots  and  the  stem  of  the 
tree.  Save  that  country,  that  you  may  continue  to  adorn  it  —  save 
the  Crown,  which  is  in  jeopardy  —  the  Aristocracy,  which  is  shaken 
—  save  the  Altar,  which  must  stagger  with  the  blow  that  rends  its 
kindred  Throne  I  You  have  said,  my  lords,  you  have  willed  —  the 
Church  and  the  King  have  willed  —  that  the  Queen  shall  be  de- 
prived of  its  solemn  service.  She  has  instead  of  that  solemnity, 
the  heartfelt  prayers  of  the  people.  She  wants  no  prayers  of  mine. 
But  I  do  here  pour  forth  my  humble  supplications  at  the  Throne 
of  Mercy,  that  that  Mercy  may  be  poured  down  upon  the  people, 
in  a  larger  measure  than  the  merits  of  their  rulers  may  deserve, 
and  that  your  hearts  may  be  turned  to  justice  !  "  ^ 

To  success  in  persuasion  variety  in  matter  and  in  man- 
principieof  ^^^  ^^  Bsseutial ;  for  monotony  deadens  interest 
variety.  ^^^  chills  fccling.      A  Variety  of  sentiments 

1  Lord  Brougham :  Speeches  on  Social  and  Political  Subjects ;  Case 
of  Queen  Caroline. 


AKGUMENT.  397 

should  be  appealed  to;  a  variety  of  methods  should  be 
employed.  Short  explanation,  vivid  description,  happy 
illustration,  indirect  suggestion,  all  may  be  instruments 
of  persuasion,  if  they  are  so  used  as  to  advance  the  main 
purpose.  Not  that  variety  should  ever  be  secured  at  the 
expense  of  unity  or  of  individuality ;  one  and  the  same 
subject  should  be  kept  constantly  in  mind,  one  and 
the  same  person  should  be  constantly  present  behind 
the  words. 

In  all  cases,  success  in  persuasion  largely  depends  upon 
the  adaptation  of  what  is  said  to  the  character  and  the 
circumstances  of  the  persons  addressed.  In  principle  of 
this  matter,  the  speaker  has  an  advantage  over  adaptation, 
the  writer  in  that  he  knows  what  manner  of  men  he 
is  addressing  and  can  choose  his  method  accordingly. 
One  audience  is,  as  everybody  knows,  more  difficult  to 
move  than  another.  The  educated,  as  a  class,  are  much 
more  difficult  to  move  than  the  ignorant.  To  this  rule 
there  are,  of  course,  many  exceptions ;  but  too  often 
education  cultivates  the  head  at  the  expense  of  the 
heart.  A  speaker  should,  then,  always  bear  in  mind  that 
more  subtle  means  must  be  used  in  moving  an  intellec- 
tual than  an  unintellectual  audience.  He  should  also 
bear  in  mind  that  his  audience,  whatever  its  character,  is 
liable  to  changes  of  mood  which  he  must  be  quick  to  see 
and  quick  to  follow. 

In  persuasion  a  bookish  or  a  declamatory  style  tells  for 
less  than  the  simple  expression  of  the  truth.  If  readers 
are  thinking  about  a  writer's  style,  or  hearers 
about  an  orator's  eloquence,  they  are  less  likely 
to  be  influenced  by  him  than  if  they  are  so  fully  absorbed 
in  what  he  is  saying  as  to  pay  no  attention  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  is  said.     No  advocate  could  have  a  higher 


398  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION, 

compliment  paid  to  his  persuasive  powers  than  was  paid 
to  Scarlett  (Lord  Abinger)  by  the  English  juryman  who 
said  that,  though  Brougham  might  be  the  cleverer  advo- 
cate, Scarlett  was  "  such  a  lucky  one,  for  he  was  always  on 
the  right  side;"  or  to  Eufus  Choate  by  the  Yankee  jury- 
man who,  after  telling  anecdotes  that  showed  Choate's 
insidious  power  over  a  jury,  said,  "  I  must  tell  you  that 
I  did  not  think  much  of  his  flights  of  fancy ;  but  I  con- 
sidered him  a  very  Ivxky  lawyer,  for  there  was  not  one  of 
those  five  cases  that  came  before  us  where  he  was  n't  on 
the  right  side."  ^  If  a  writer  or  an  orator  is  thinking 
of  his  own  style,  he  may  please  his  readers  or  his 
hearers  with  well-turned  periods  or  sounding  phrases, 
but  he  will  not  move  them ;  for  he  will  inevitably 
betray  the  fact  that  manner  is  more  to  him  than  mat- 
ter. If  his  mind  is  full  of  his  purpose,  he  will  express 
himself  simply.  "  I  believe  it  to  be  true,"  says  Emerson, 
"that  when  any  orator  at  the  bar  or  in  the  Senate 
rises  in  his  thought,  he  descends  in  his  language,  —  that 
is,  when  he  rises  to  any  height  of  thought  or  of  pas- 
sion he  comes  down  to  a  language  level  with  the  ear  of 
all  his  audience.  It  is  the  merit  of  John  Brown  and  of 
Abraham  Lincoln  —  one  at  Charlestown,  one  at  Gettys- 
burg —  in  the  two  best  specimens  of  eloquence  we  have 
had  in  this  country."  2 

In  argument  the  most  important  requirement  is  the 
dry  light  of  intelligence ;   but  in  persuasion  "  the  essen- 
tial thing  is  heat,  and  heat  comes  of  sincerity."  ^ 
Without  sincerity,  a  man  who  has  all  other 
graces  and  gifts  will  be  but  "  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling 

1  Quoted    in   Whipple's    "  Recollections  of  Eminent  Men ; "    Some 
KecoUections  of  Rufus  Choate. 

^  Euersoa  <  Letters  and  Social  Aims ;  Eloqaeocse. 


ARGUMENT.  399 

cymbal;"  with  it,  a  man  who  lacks  everything  else  will 
prevail,  for  the  spiritual  fire  that  is  in  him  will  go  from 
him  to  others,  whatever  the  obstacles.  People  in  gen- 
eral hold  their  opinions  so  loosely  that  a  man  who  be- 
lieves anything  with  his  whole  heart  is  sure  to  make 
converts. 

As  argumentative  composition,  nothing  in  English 
literature  is  more  deserving  of  study  than  the  works 
of  Burke,  especially  the  speech  on  American  Examples  of 
Taxation  and  that  on  Conciliation  with  Amer-  ''''«'^®'**- 
ica.  No  American  speeches  are  more  deserving  of  study 
than  those  of  Daniel  Webster.  Especially  noteworthy 
are  his  three  speeches  against  nullification  (1830  and 
1833),  with  which  may  profitably  be  studied  the  argu- 
ments for  nullification  by  Hayne  (1830)  and  Calhoun 
(1833).  Other  examples  of  argumentative  composition 
are :  Eichard  Cobden's  speech  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
April  24,  1863,  on  the  seizure  of  "  The  Alexandra"  on  the 
ground  that  it  was  being  equipped  contrary  to  the  pro- 
visions of  the  Foreign  Enlistment  Act ;  ^  John  Bright's 
speech  in  the  House  of  Commons,  May  3,  1864,  on  a  mo- 
tion for  the  abolition  of  capital  punishment ;  ^  Macaulay's 
speeches  in  the  House  of  Commons,  Feb.  5, 1841,  and  April 
6, 1842,  on  the  bill  to  amend  the  law  of  copyright,  and  his 
speech,  May  22,  1846,  on  a  bill  for  limiting  the  labor  of 
young  persons  in  factories  to  ten  hours  a  day  ;  the  chap- 
ter on  "Fundamental  Principles  respecting  Capital,"  in 
Mill's    "Principles  of  Political   Economy;"    Sir   James 

*  Richard  Cobden :  Speeches  on  Questions  of  Public  Polic}',  vol.  ii. 
American  War  I.     Edited  by  John  Biiglit  and  James  E.  Thorold  Rogers. 

2  John  Bright :  Speech  on  QuestiouvS  of  Public  Policy,  vol.  ii.  Punish- 
ment of  Death.     Edited  by  James  E.  Thorold  I  igers. 


400  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION. 

Fitzjames  Stephen's  article  on  the  suppression  of  boycot- 
ting, published  in  "  The  Nineteenth  Century,"  December, 
1886;  Matthew  Arnold's  "Last  Words"  at  the  end  of 
his  papers  "On  Translating  Homer,"  in  "Essays  in  Criti- 
cism ; "  Huxley's  "  Three  Lectures  on  Evolution  "  (deliv- 
ered in  New  York,  1876);  the  Spencer- Weismann  articles, 
published  in  "  The  Contemporary  Eeview  "  between  Feb- 
ruary, 1893,  and  October,  1894.1 

1  Other  examples  are  given  in  "  Specimens  of  Argumentation,"  com- 
piled by  George  P.  Baker.  Still  others  are  mentioned  at  the  close  of 
President  Eliot's  article  entitled  "  Wherein  Popular  Education  has  Failed," 
published  in  "The  Forum,"  December,  1892. 


INDEX. 


Principal  topics,  black ;  words  and  subordinate  topics,  Roman ;  titles  of 
periodicals,  "  Romau  "  quoted ;  other  proper  names  in  small  capitals  ; 
foreign  expressions,  italic. 


A. 

A  I'outrance,  28. 

A  merveille,  29. 

A  No.  1,  12. 

Abatis,  27. 

Abattoir,  16. 

Abbott,  E.  A.,  48. 

Abbreviated  forms,  accepted  and 
condemned,  34 ;  allowable  in  poe- 
try but  not  in  prose,  3.5. 

Abinger,  Lord,  (James  Scarlett), 
383,  398. 

Abolishment,  for  abolition,  23. 

Above  par,  12. 

Abstraction,  for  pilfering,  109. 

Accede,  distinguished  from  cede, 
37  ;  wrongly  used,  46. 

Accent,  standard  of,  12. 

Accept  of,  20. 

Accessorily,  for  as  an  accessory,  22. 

Accordingly,  148. 

Accredit,  Credit,  distinguished,  38. 

Acrobat,  27. 

Actions,  Acts,  distinguished,  18. 

Active  form,  preferable  to  passive, 
20 ;  wlien  to  be  avoided,  20. 

Acute,  115. 

Ad,  for  advertisement,  34. 

Ad  infinitum,  16. 

Ad  libitum,  16. 

Adams,  Johx  Couch,  353. 

Adams,  John  Qcinct,  168,  380. 


Adaptation,  in  choice  of  words,  90- 
91  ;  in  choice  between  particle  and 
more  important  word  at  end  of  sen- 
tence, 201 ;  in  choice  of  sentences, 
228 ;  in  exposition,  318 ;  in  per- 
suasion, 397. 

Addenda,  for  addendum,  49. 

Addison,  Joseph,  10,  34,  49,  65, 
133,  167,  195,  245,314,372. 

Address  to,  20. 

Adit,  26. 

Adjectives,  comparison  of  dissyl- 
labic and  polysyllabic,  22;  with- 
out grammatical  reference,  52; 
misused  for  adverbs,  67 ;  with 
verbs,  when  preferable  to  adverbs, 
67 ;  obscure  demonstrative,  86 ; 
pleonastic,  160;  unwise  advice  to 
young  writers  concerning  use  of, 
161. 

Admire,  to,  12. 

Admission,  Admittance,  19. 

Admit,  Confess,  distinguished,  18. 

Admit  of,  20. 

AduUamite,  32. 

Advent,  12. 

Adverbial  expressions,  position  of, 
202. 

Adverbs,  misused  for  adjectives,  67  ; 
with  vcrlis,  when  preferable  to 
adjectives,  67 ;  between  to  and  the 
infinitive,  69  ;  pleonastic,  158. 

-^SCHINES,  380. 


402 


INDEX. 


JESCHYLUS,  102. 

Afeard,  for  afraid,  26. 

Affatuated,  22. 

Affectation,  26,  144,  160. 

Aforesaid,  12. 

Agaiu-bite,  101. 

Agaiu-risiug,  101. 

Aggravating,  for  provoking,  42,  47. 

Aggregate,  to,  12. 

Aggressor,  first  or  original,  154. 

Agone,  26. 

Agricultural  interest,  104. 

Agriculturist,  preferable  to  agri- 
culturalist, 21. 

Alfresco,  16. 

Alabama  claims,  62. 

Album,  99. 

Alford,  Henry,  30,  51. 

"  Alice  in  Wonderland,"  76. 

Allan,  J.  H.,  138. 

Alliance,  for  marriage,  102. 

Alliteration  in  excess,  136. 

Allow,  for  admit,  maintain,  12. 

Allude,  distinguished  from  mention 
and  refer,  39 ;  wrongly  used,  45. 

Allusions,  39. 

Alone,  for  only,  42,  46. 

Along  the  line  of,  along  these  lines, 
77. 

Alway,  9. 

Amateur,  27. 

Ambassador,  23. 

Ambiguity  of  terms,  94,  95,  310. 
See  Clearness. 

Ambrosia.  27. 

America,  words  peculiar  to,  14. 

American  and  British  usage,  13-15. 

American  language,  possible  exis- 
tence of  a  distinct,  14. 

Amiableness,  to  he  avoided,  21. 

Among,  preferable  to  amongst,  21  ; 
wrongly  u.sed,  68. 

Anacrkon,  277. 

Analogy,  argument  from,  a  form  of 
argument  from  example,  361  ;  ex- 
plained, 364-368 ;  false  analogies, 
369-373. 

Analytic  method  in  exposition,  314. 

Ancient,  Old,  99. 

Ancient  purloiner,  103. 

And,  use  and  misuse  of,  87-88  ;  used 
to  connect  expressions  not  co-or- 
dinate, 89,  139;  pleonastic,  159; 
omission  of,  gives  rapidity,  159. 


And  now,  159. 

And  now  comes,  12. 

And  so,  159. 

And  which  construction,  138. 

ANuitEw,  John  A.,  62. 

Anemone,  99. 

Anglo-Saxon,  words  from,  compared 
with  words  from  Latin,  96-102; 
not  a  literary  language,  101. 

Angus,  Joseph,  61,  139. 

Annexion,  for  annexation,  24. 

Anon,  9. 

Antagonism  between  clearness  and 
precision,  94. 

Antagonize,  for  oppose,  12. 

Antecedent  probability,  argument 
from,  defiued,  354 ;  explained,  354- 
356 ;  use  by  science,  356  ;  use  in 
fiction,  357 ;  need  of  argument 
from,  358 ;  preponderance  of  prob- 
ability, 359 ;  fallacious  arguments 
from,  361 ;  argument  from  sign 
opposed  by  that  from,  376  ;  argu- 
ment from,  combined  with  that 
from  sign  and  from  example,  376 ; 
place  in  arrangement  of  proof,  383. 

Anti-climax,  examples  of,  194; 
when  effective,  195. 

Antique,  23. 

Antithesis,  defined,  188;  force  and 
clearness  often  gained  by,  1 88  ;  ex- 
amples of,  189;  Burke's  use  of, 
190;  excesses  in  the  use  of,  191; 
useful  in  exposition,  324. 

Anxious  seat,  on  the,  12. 

Aphorisms,  289. 

Apparently,Evidently,  distinguished, 
39. 

Appreciate,  for  rise  in  value,  12. 

Approve  of,  20. 

Arabic,  words  from  the,  27. 

Archaic  expressions,  when  permis- 
sible, 9-10. 

Ardor,  115. 

Argue,  Plead,  distinguished,  40. 

Arguing  beside  the  point,  344,  346- 
349. 

Arguing  in  a  circle,  344. 

Ariruinent,  Plea,  distinguished,  40. 

Argument,  discriminated  from  other 
kinds  of  composition,  247  ;  chap- 
ter on,  327-400:  distinguished 
from  exposition,  327  ;  in  the  form 
of  exposition,  327 ;   prepared  for 


INDEX. 


403 


■by  exposition,  328 ;  proposition 
and  proof,  328-331  ;  a  wurd  not  a 
subject  for,  328 ;  which  proves  too 
much,  330;  irouical,331 ;  burden  of 
proof  and  presumption,  331-333; 
evidence,  334-341  ;  deduction  an(l 
induction,  341-353 ;  antecedent 
probability,  example,  sign,  354- 
379 ;  experience  the  basis  of  all, 
379 ;  arrangement,  379-385  ;  per- 
suasion, 386-399 ;  examples  of, 
399.  See  Antecedent  probability, 
Deduction,  Example,  Fallacies,  In- 
duction, Persuasion,  Sign,  Testi- 
mony. 

Argumentative  examples,  distin- 
guished from  illustrative,  361  ; 
vary  in  force,  363. 

Arguments,  strength  of  combined, 
376-379  ;  order  of,  383. 

Argumentum  ad  hominem,  347,  386. 

Argumentum  ad  populum,  347. 

Aristides,  361. 

Aristocratic,    preferable    to    aristo- 

_  cratical,  21. 

Aristotle,  112,  il8,  330,  341,  357, 
366. 

Arme'd,  10. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  10,  32,  36,  56, 
57,  151,  163,  169,  202,  225,  229, 
255,  322,  326,  355,  370,  387,  400. 

Aroma,  99. 

Around,  round  usuallv  preferable 
to,  21. 

Arrangement,  177-246:  the  ideal, 
177;  clearness  in,  177-183;  force 
in,  184-198  ;  ease  in,  198-208 ;  for- 
eign, 204-208;  "Johnsonese,"  205; 
theories  of  Bentham  and  Spencer 
concerning,  207 ;  unity  in,  208- 
216  ;  in  sentences  of  diiJereut 
kinds,  216-230;  in  paragraphs, 
230-238 ;  in  whole  compositions, 
239-246  ;  in  exposition,  314 ;  in 
argument,  379-385:  importance  of 
good,  380;  order  of  proposition 
and  proof,  381,  of  arguments  from 
antecedent  probability,  exam])l(', 
sign,  383;  place  for  refutation, 
384.  See  Clearness,  Ease,  Force, 
Kinds  of  sentences,  Paragraphs, 
Unit//,  Whole  compositions. 

Art;  99. 

Articles,  omission  of,  146. 


Artificiality,  preferable  to  artificial- 
ness,  21. 

Artiste,  28,  29. 

Artistic  description,  254-280 :  aim 
and  metiiod  of,  254  ;  emotion  in, 
256-262 ;  the  pathetic  fallacy,  257  ; 
resources  of,  262 ;  telling  character- 
istics, 262  ;  one  well-chosen  word, 
268 ;  effect  that  suggests  cause, 
270 ;  words  that  suggest  motion, 
271  ;  in  narrative  form,  275. 

As,  pleonastic,  158. 

As  an  accessory,  preferable  to  ac- 
cessorily,  22, 

As  lief,  5,  23. 

Ascend  up.  20. 

Assist,  for  be  present,  43. 

Association  of  ideas,  arguments  based 
on,  354,  373-375. 

Associations  with  words  of  Anglo- 
Saxon  origin  and  with  those  of 
Latin,  98,  101-102. 

Assumption  not  argument,  346. 

Assurance,  Insurance,  19. 

"Atheuffium"  (the),  46,  49,  284, 
376. 

Athletics,  Games,  2,  3. 

"Atlantic  Monthly"  (the),  119,  131, 
170. 

Atmosphere,  77. 

Attain  to,  20. 

Attar  (of  roses),  27. 

Attention,  115. 

Atterbcry,  Bishop,  375. 

Audible  to  the  ear,  154. 

August,  101. 

Adsten,  Jane,  29,  67,  120,  134, 
181,  182,  206,  215,  285,  289, 
298. 

Authenticity,  preferable  to  authen- 
ticalness,  21. 

Authority,  evidence  derived  from, 
336. 

Autobiography,  his  own,  1 54. 

Aversion,  preferable  to  averseness, 
21. 

Avocation,  distinguished  from  voca- 
tion, 39  ;  wrongly  used,  44,  70. 

Aware,  Conscious,  distinguished,  18. 

Awfully,  75. 

Awfully  pretty,  75. 

Awkward  arrangement,  202-206. 

Awkward  S(iuad,  10. 

Axe,  for  ask,  13,  26. 


404 


INDEX. 


B. 


Backward,  backwards,  21. 

Bacon,  Francis,  331,  372,  376-377. 

Bad,  for  badly,  68. 

Bad  habits,  for  drimkeuness,  109. 

Bad  orthography,  3. 

Bag  and  baggage,  156. 

Bagehot,  Walter,  326. 

Baggage,  used  by  Addison,  10;  or 
luggage,  14. 

Baggage-car,  or  luggage-van,  15. 

Bain,  Alexander,  112,  116. 

Baker,  George  P.,  391,  400. 

Balance,  the,  12. 

Balanced  sentences,  226-227. 

Balfour,  A.  J.,  337,  367. 

Ballads,  old  English,  160. 

Bancroft,  George,  190. 

Bang,  112. 

Banter,  23,  33. 

Barbarisms,  violations  of  good  use, 
25;  section  on,  25-37:  defined, 
25 ;  obsolete  words,  25 ;  new 
words,  27 ;  words  of  foreign 
origin,  27 ;  borrowed  finery,  28 ; 
foreign  fashions  in  spelling,  31  ; 
slang,  32  ;  vulgarisms,  33  ;  abbre- 
viated forms,  34 ;  the  safe  rule  in 
determining,  35. 

Barn-burner,  32. 

Barrie,  J.  M.,  174. 

Barrister,  14. 

Barrow,  Isaac,  222. 

Bas  bleu,  16. 

Based  on,  116. 

Be,  perfect  and  pluperfect  tenses  of, 
with  to  and  substantive  or  infini- 
tive, 6. 

Beastly,  75. 

Beau  monde,  30. 

BeautifuUest,  for  most  beautiful,  22. 

Bed-rock,  to  get  down  to,  13. 

Beecher,  Henry  Ward,  391. 

Been  to  (see),  6. 

Been  to  (the  theatre),  6. 

Beet,  or  beet-root,  15. 

Beetle,  or  bug,  15. 

Begging  the  question,  344-346. 

Begin,  preferable  to  commence,  21. 

Beginnings  of  sentences,  weak,  187. 

Being,  Existence,  3. 

Being  beaten,  or  beating,  20. 

Being  built,  or  building,  20. 


Being  sold,  or  selling,  20. 
Bellamy,  Edward,  345. 
Bemis,  George,  341. 
Bennington's  Centennial,  50. 
Benson,  E.  F.,  69,  88,  120,  135,  157, 

182. 
Bentham,  JerEiMY,  22,  207,  346. 
Besant,  Walter,  60. 
Beside,  besides,  22. 
Beside  the  point,  arguing,  344,  346- 

349. 
Better,  had,  5 ;  might,  5. 
Between,  wrongly  used,  68. 
Betwixt,  9. 
Bible  (the),  5,  60,  62,  63,  113,  117, 

119,  162,  163,  164,  174,  189. 
Bigot,  33. 

Bike,  byke,  for  bicycle,  34. 
Biography,  method  in,  295. 
BiRRELL,  Augustine,  46. 
Biscuit,  or  cracker,  14. 
Black,  William,  46,  134. 
Blackmore,  R.  D.,  48. 
Blair,  Hugh,  64,  86,  159,  183,  202, 

209. 
Blase,  29,  30. 
Blizzard,  14. 
Bloody,  Sanguine,  99. 
Blue,  the  steadfast,  9. 
Blue-stocking,  33. 
Board-school,  14. 
Bobbin,  or  spool,  15. 
Body,  Corpse,  Corporal,  99. 
Bogus,  17. 

Bold  and  audacious,  156. 
Bolingbroke,  Lord,  331. 
Bombast,  33. 
Bonanza,  to  strike  a,  13. 
Boodle,  17. 

Booking-clerk,  or  ticket-agent,  15. 
Bookish  words,  108. 
Boom,  112. 
Boomers,  12. 
'BoQ)ins  Tr6Tvia''Hpr},  30. 
Bore,  10. 

Borrowed  verbal  finery,  28-30. 
"  Boston  Daily  Advertiser  "  (the), 

387. 
"  Boston  Herald  "  (the),  344. 
BoswELL,  James,  165. 
Both,  and,  (correspondents),  position 

of,  178. 
Boughten,  12. 
Box,  or  trunk,  14. 


INDEX. 


405 


Boycott,  to,  33. 

Braces,  or  suspenders,  14. 

Brainy,  17. 

Breed  up,  20. 

Breen,  Henry  H.,  49. 

Brevity,  may  be  sacrificed  to  eu- 
phony, 22;  misplaced,  174;  im- 
portant in  statement  of  proposi- 
tion, 382.     See  Conciseness. 

Brick  (brig),  27. 

Bridge  over,  20. 

Bright,  John,  96,  100,  154,  171, 
399. 

British  and  American  usage,  13-15. 

Bronte,  Charlotte,  147. 

Brooks,  Phillips,  304. 

Brougham,  Lord,  114,  147,  396, 
398. 

Broughtok,  Rhoda,  261. 

Brown,  Goold,  65. 

Brown,  John,  398. 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett, 
9,  116,  142. 

Browning,  Robert,  5,  78,  107, 110, 
129,  143,  149,  170,  171,  175,  186, 
264,  267,  268. 

Brush  off  of,  20. 

Bryant,  William  Cullen,  32,  277. 

Bryce,  James,  307. 

Budget,  28. 

Bug,  or  beetle,  15. 

Bulldoze,  to,  17. 

Bully,  17,  75. 

Bulwer-Lytton,  (First  Lord  Lyt- 
ton),  50,  117,  154,  166. 

Bumble-bee,  113. 

Bumptious,  17. 

Buncombe,  33. 

Bunyan,  John,  97,  227. 

Buoy,  27. 

Burden  of  proof,  331-333. 

Bureau,  or  chest  of  drawers,  15. 

Bureau  of  Poijiona,  102. 

Burglarized,  34. 

Burke,  Edmund,  4,  51,  64,  86,  97, 
114,  122,  150,  151,  169,  189,  190, 
191,  193,  219,  256,  312,  331,  382, 
384,  389,  391,  399. 
BuRNEY,  Frances,  69,  155,  205, 
206. 

Burns,  Robert,  50,  80,  129,  130, 

143. 
Burr,  Aaron,  369,  370. 
Bushnell,  Horace,  304,  345. 


Business,  vocabulary  of,  75. 

But,  use  and  misuse  of,  87-89  ;  repe* 

titiou  of,  135. 
But  also,  position  of,  178. 
Butler,  Joseph,  364,  372. 
Buzz,  112. 
Buzz,  Murmur,  3. 
By,  wrongly  used,  68. 
By  dint  of,  5. 
ByrOxV,  Lord,  52, 112, 119,  124,  128, 

169,  227,  269. 


Cab,  or  hack,  14 ;  abbre\'iated  from 

cabriolet,  34. 
Cabal,  33. 

Cable,  for  telegram  or  telegraph,  17. 
Cablegram,  33. 
Cesar,  Julius,  369,  370. 
Calculate,  to,  12. 
Calhoun,  John  C,  399. 
Campbell,  George,  4,   8,  20,  21, 

23,  31,  71,  105,  112,  113,  158,  162. 
Campbell,  Thomas,  197. 
Campo,  campus,  12. 
Can,  for  may,  58. 
Cant,  33. 

Cant  e.xpressions,  short  life  of,  32. 
Cap,  for  captain,  34. 
Car,  or  carriage  (railway),  15. 
Cargo,  27. 
Caricature,      Dicliens      sometime* 

guilty  of,  270. 
Carlyle,  Jane  Welsh,  52. 
Carlyle,  Thomas,  22,  41,  82,  115, 

124,  143,  169,  186,  234,  267. 
Carpet-bagger,  32. 
Carriage  (railway),  or  car,  15. 
Carroll,  Lewis,  67. 
Carry,  or  portage,  15. 
Carryall,  14. 

Carter,  James  Coolidge,  386. 
Case.     See  Nominative,    Possessive, 

Objective. 
Casket,  for  coffin,  109. 
Caste,  27. 

Catch  on,  for  catch  the  meaning,  1 7. 
Caucus,  14. 
Cause  and  effect,  arguments  based 

on  relation  of,  350,  354-361,  375. 
Cavendish,  Henry,  255. 
Cede,  Accede,  distinguished,  37. 


406 


INDEX. 


Central  idea.    See  Main  idea. 

"Century  Magazine"  (the),  261. 

Ceremonious,  distinguished  from 
ceremonial,  38 ;  wrongly  used,  44. 

Certain,  76. 

Cervantes,  288. 

"  Chambers's  Journal,"  40. 

Champion,  for  support,  12. 

Characteristic,  preferable  to  char- 
acteristical,  21. 

Characteristics,  selection  of  telling, 
in  description,  262-266. 

Charity,  94. 

Chateaubriand,  255. 

Chatham,  Earl  of,  78. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  13,  83,  284. 

Cheapjack,  14. 

Checkers,  15. 

Chemist,  or  druggist,  15;  origin  of 
word,  99. 

Cherub,  plural  forms  of,  49. 

Chest  of  drawers,  or  bureau,  15. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  6,  102. 

Chevalier  d'indiistrie,  16. 

Chickadee,  112. 

Cliildish,  Childlike,  distinguished, 
39. 

Choate,  Joseph  Hodges,  38*7. 

Choate,  Rufus,  78,  165,  398. 

Choice  of  words,  counsel  given  by 
Jonson  and  Pope  concerning,  35 ; 
chapter  on,  74-144:  value  of  an 
ample  vocabulary,  74  ;  overworked 
words,  75-77  ;  how  to  enrich  one's 
vocabulary,  78-81  ;  how  to  deter- 
mine the,  81 ;  clearness  in,  81-111; 
as  affected  by  subject  and  purpose, 
96;  force  in,  111-132;  ease  in, 
132-144.  See  Clearness,  Ease, 
Force. 

Choose,  preferable  to  elect?  or  select, 
21. 

Chum,  34. 

Church,  94. 

Chvmistry,  for  chemistrv,  23. 

Cicero,  36,  80,  167,  189,  193,  221, 
362. 

Cigar,  27. 

Circle,  arguing  in  a,  344. 

Circumlocution,  defined,  164 ;  exam- 
ples of  weak,  164-166;  examples 
of  useful,  167. 

Circumstantial  evidence ,  direct  and, 
839-341. 


Civilization,  99. 

Claim,  for  maintain,  12. 

Clamber  up  into,  20. 

Clarke,  Samuel,  162. 

Clear-cut,  77. 

Clearer,  preferable  to  more  clear, 
21. 

Clearness  (as  applied  to  Choice  of 
Words),  81-111:  importance  of, 
82 ;  difficulty  of  writing  clearly, 
83  ;  secret  of  Macaulay's  success, 
83 ;  obscure  or  equivocal  pro- 
nouns, 84 ;  use  and  misuse  of 
connectives,  86-90 ;  obscure  neg- 
ative expressions,  90 ;  a  relative 
quality,  90 ;  distinguished  from 
precision,  92 ;  precision  must  some- 
times be  sacrificed  to,  93 ;  ambi- 
guity of  general  terms,  94 ;  some- 
times requires  definitions,  95  ;  the 
etymological  theory,  96 ;  choice  of 
words  as  affected  by  subject  and 
purpose,  96-102;  the  ^-ulgarity  of 
fine  writing,  102-105;  general  or 
specific  terms,  105-111.  (As  ap- 
plied to  Number  of  Words),  146- 
149 :  too  few  words,  146 ;  omissions 
in  verse  justifiable,  148;  obscurity 
caused  by  unnecessary  words,  149. 
(As  applied  to  Arrangement), 
177-183  :  defined,  177  ;  as  affected 
by  position  of  pronouns,  177,  of 
correspondents,  178,  of  subordinate 
expressions,  179-183 ;  often  gained 
by  antithesis,  188;  as  affected  by 
position  of  similes,  196;  false  em- 
phasis hostile  to,  198;  in  para- 
graphs, 231 ;  in  wliole  composi- 
tions, 239.  (As  applied  to  Expo- 
sition), 310-319  :  the  first  requisite 
of  exposition,  310 ;  secured  by 
judicious  repetition,  312;  secured 
by  methodical  arrangement,  314; 
a  matter  of  adaptation,  318 ;  unity 
an  ally  of,  319.  (As  applied  to 
Argument),  is  very  important,  380; 
essential  in  statement  of  the  pro- 
position, 382. 

Clergy,  99. 

Clerk,  or  shopman,  15. 

Clever,  23,  33. 

Clifford,  William  Kingdon,  311 

Clifford,  Mrs.  W.  K.,  68,  140. 

Climated,  for  acclimated,  17. 


ilN'DEX. 


407 


Climax,  defined,  192  ;  two  principal 
merits  of,  192;  examples  of,  193; 
value  of,  shown  by  anti-climax, 
194;  useful  in  exposition,  324; 
principle  of,  in  persuasion,  395. 

Climb,  as  noun,  34. 

Coal,  to,  33. 

Coal  collier,  154. 

CoBDEN,  Richard,  399. 

Cockatoo,  27. 

Co-ed,  for  female  student  at  a  co- 
educational college,  34. 

Co-eaucation,  14. 

Coiffee  a  ravir,  30. 

Coleridge,  Samuel  Taylor,  9, 
23,  72,  86,  98,  107,  120,  123,  124, 
128,  130,  197,  217,  235,  249,258, 
259,  269,  376. 

Collective  noun,  when  singular,  when 
plural,  57. 

Collegiate,  for  collegian,  26. 

Collins,  John  Chlrton,  339. 

Collins,  Wilkie,  179,  285. 

CoLMAN,  George,  59. 

Colossal,  102. 

Combined  arguments,  352,  376-379. 

Commonweal,  for  commonwealth, 
26. 

Comparison,  of  dissyllabic  and  poly- 
syllabic adjectives,  22 ;  of  absolute 
adjectives  and  adverbs,  158-159; 
as  means  of  description,  267-268  ; 
useful  in  exposition,  324. 

Compo,  for  composition,  34. 

Composition,  Macaulay's  method  of, 
83 ;  De  Quincev's  definition  of, 
240  ;  Raskin's  definition  of,  241. 

Composition,  kinds  of,  247-400 : 
four  kinds  discriminated,  247 ; 
distinct  in  theory  but  combined  in 
practice,  247  ;  description,  249- 
280;  narration,  281-299;  expo- 
sition, 300-326 ;  argument,  327- 
400. 

Compositions,  whole,  239-246  : 
clearness  and  force  in,  239 ;  ease 
in,  239  ;  unity  in,  239-243 ;  should 
have  variety,  244 ;  should  be  inter- 
esting, 246. 

Comproiiiis,  43. 

Concession, 'improper  use  of,  43,  44. 

Concessionaire,  44. 

Conciseness,  relative,  145;  excessive, 
146, 174, 175, 312, 323.  See  Brevity. 


Conclusion,  the,  defined,  342 ;  irrele- 
vant, 347. 

Concreteness,  principle  of,  in  per- 
suasion, 395. 

Concurrent  testimony,  339. 

Condign,  Severe,  distinguished,  39. 

Conductor,  or  guard,  15. 

Confess,  Admit,  distinguished,  18. 

Conflicting  arguments  from  antece- 
dent  probability,  359. 

Confliction,  for  conflict,  33. 

Confjrtuble  (comfortable),  28. 

Confusion,  fallacy  of,  347-349. 

CoNiNGTON,  John,  51. 

Conjunctions.     See  Connectives. 

Connect  together,  20. 

Connectives,  use  and  misuse  of,  86- 
90;  omission  of,  148. 

Connotation,  9. 

Conscience,  distinguished  from  con- 
sciousne.ss,  39  ;  wrongly  used,  45  ; 
preferable  to  inwit,  101. 

Conscience'  sake,  for,  50. 

Conscious,  Aware,  distinguished,  18. 

Consciousness,  Conscience,  distin- 
guished, 39. 

Consensus,  77. 

Conservative,  94. 

Consols,  34. 

Construct,  Construe,  distinguished, 
38. 

Constructions,  harsh,  138. 

Consulate,  to,  34. 

Contemplate  a  monarch,  104. 

"Contemporary  Review"  (the),  44, 
101,  111,  172,400. 

Content,  77. 

Continual,  Continuous,  distin- 
guished, 38. 

Contraband,  32. 

Convention,  Meeting,  3. 

Conversation,  inaccuracies  in,  1,  48; 
words  seeking  admission  to  the 
language  allowable  in,  10;  extent 
of  vocalinlary  of,  75. 

Convict,  Convince,  distinguished,  38. 

Cookie,  14. 

Cooper,  James  Fenimore,  46, 166i. 

Copperhead,  32. 

Corn,  or  maize,  15. 

Corn  (Corn  Laws),  15. 

"Cornhill  .Magazine"  (the),  130. 

Cornwall,  Harry,  142. 

Corpse,  Corporal,  Body,  99. 


408 


INDEX. 


Correctness,  in  the  use  of  language, 
importance  of,  1  ;  grammatical, 
does  not  insure  clearness,  83. 

Correspondents,  position  of,  178; 
examples  of,  178. 

Corse,  9. 

Costermouger,  14. 

Cotton,  Nathaniel,  344. 

Coulisses,  29. 

Counterfeit  presentment,  103. 

Counter-presumption,  332. 

Coup  de  soleil,  16. 

Coup  d'ceil,  30. 

Courtesy,  rule  of,  as  applied  to  the 
use  of  shall  and  will,  58,  60-62. 

Cowley,  Abuaham,  125. 

CowPER,  William,  126,  142,  165. 

Coxeyite,  32. 

Crack,  for  excellent,  17. 

Cracker,  or  biscuit,  14. 

Craik,  Henkv,  23. 

Crash,  112. 

Crave  for,  20. 

Crawford,  F.  Marion,  77,  280. 

Credit,  Accredit,  distinguished,  38. 

Creek  (small  inland  stream),  12. 

"Crimson"  (the),  [Harvard]  157. 

"Critic"  (the),  76,  155. 

Cromwell,  Oliver,  369,  370. 

Cruller,  14. 

Crunch,  112. 

Crusoe,  Robinson,  360. 

Cry,  hue  and,  5. 

Cuckoo,  112. 

Cunning,  for  piquant  or  pretty,  17. 

Curb  in,  20. 

Curios,  for  curiosities,  34. 

Curry  favor,  7. 

Custom,  the  most  certain  mistress 
of  language,  35. 

Cute,  for  taking,  attractive,  17  ;  for 
acute,  35. 

CuviER,  255,  353. 


D. 


DAititT,  prohibited,  21. 

\  )aily,  one  form  for  adjective  and  ad- 
verb 22. 

Dale.'r.  W.,  101,  172. 

Dalling  and  Bclwer,  Lord,  45, 
71,  178. 

Dance  attendance,  7. 


Dancing  attendance,  23. 

Dangling  participles,  213. 

Damel,  ISamiiel,  101. 

Dante,  258,320,  321. 

Dartmouth  College  case,  172,  395. 

Darwin,  Charles,  357. 

Data,  99. 

Davis,  Richard  Harding,  121, 28t 

Day,  H.  N.,  384. 

Day's  pleasure,  a,  50. 

Deadly,  Deathly,  distinguished,  18. 

Death's  door,  at,  50. 

Debase,  Demean,  distinguished,  39. 

Debutante,  30. 

Decided,  Decisive,  distinguished,  38. 

Declamation,  common,  91. 

Declinature,  34. 

Decousu  style,  235. 

Deduction,  defined,  341  ;  in  syllogis- 
tic form,  341-343  ;  enthymemes, 
343;  fallacies  of,  344-349;  beg- 
ging the  question,  344 ;  arguing 
beside  the  point,  346  ;  connection 
of  induction  with,  352;  induction 
combined  with,  352. 

Deductions  not  persuasive,  394. 

Deeded,  34. 

Default,  as  verb,  34. 

Definite,  Definitive,  distinguished, 
38.  _ 

Definition  the  simplest  form  of  ex- 
position, 302-307. 

Definitions,  necessary  to  fix  the  mean- 
ing of  obscure  or  ambiguous  words, 
95,310. 

Defoe,  Daniel,  282,  331,351,  375. 

Deities,  Greek.     See  Greek  deities. 

Delicacy,  preferable  to  delicateness, 
21. 

Delicate  transaction,  for  crime,  109. 

Delicatest,  for  most  delicate,  22. 

Demagogue,  23. 

Demand,  for  ask,  43. 

Demander,43. 

Demean,  distinguished  from  debase, 
39 ;  wrongly  used,  45. 

Demi-monde,  30. 

Democratic,  preferable  to  democrat!- 
cal,  21 ;  ambiguous  in  meaning 
94. 

Demosthenes,  132,  193,  380. 

Dental,  Tooth,  99. 

Dental  organs,  164. 

Depew,  Chacncet  M.,  367. 


INDEX. 


40S 


D&p6t,  16. 

Depreciate,  for  fall  in  value,  12. 

De  Quincey,  Thomas,  49,  56,  127, 
128,  141,  145,  151,  154,  157,  179, 
181,  218,  223,  231,  240,  267,  343. 

Derived  from,  not  based  on  or  re- 
peated from,  sources,  116. 

Descartes,  121. 

Description,  discriminated  from 
other  kinds  of  composition,  247  ; 
chapter  on,  249-280:  purpose  of, 
249;  language  compared  with 
painting  and  sculpture,  249 ; 
Wordsworth's  rule  for,  251  ;  two 
kinds  of,  251  ;  scientific,  251-253  ; 
artistic  or  suggestive,  254-280 ; 
narration  distinguished  from,  281  ; 
as  aid  to  narration,  283  ;  as  aid  to 
exposition,  324.  See  Artistic  de- 
scription, Scientific  description. 

Details  that  are  effective,  174. 

Detect  the  recurrence  of,  77. 

Devonshire,  Duchess  of,  270. 

Devouring  element,  103. 

Diagrams,  need  of,  as  aid  to  descrip- 
tion, 249. 

Dialect,  objections  to  writing  in,  7, 
92. 

Dickens,  Charles,  40,  45,  47,  51, 
85,  104,  105,  121,  137,  155,  156, 
166,  206,  210,  214,  263,  267,  268, 
270,  299,  358. 

Dictionary,  Webster's  International, 
100  ;  Murray's  New  English,  343. 

Differentiate,  for  make  a  difference 

Difficultly,'  for  with  difficulty,  22. 

DiflFuseness,  to  l)e  avoided,  146.  See 
Redundancy. 

Diggings,  these,  13. 

DiLKE,  Sir  Charles  W.,  188. 

Dilly-dally,  4. 

Ding-dong,  112. 

Dint  of,  by,  5. 

Diocess,  for  diocese,  23. 

Direct  and  circumstantial  evidence, 
339-341. 

Discount,  to,  12. 

Discover,  Invent,  distinguished,  39. 

Discuss  the  morning  repast,  103. 

Disorderly  conduct,  for  drunken- 
ness, 109. 

Disraeli,  Benjamin,  49,  ,50,  51, 
54,  55,  56,  57,  71,  85,  99,  138, 
18 


139,  147,  154,  172,  178,  188.  206, 
207,  211,  214. 
Disremember,  12. 
Distantest,  for  most  distant,  22 
Distinct,  Distinctive,  distinguished 

38. 
Distinctly,  76. 
Distingue,  29. 
Divided  usage,  17-24. 
Do,  idiomatic  use  with  have,  6. 
Docket,  on  the,  12. 
Dodge,  a  new,  17. 
Doff,  9. 

Dolce  far  niente,  29,  30. 
Domestic  assistants,  105. 
Don,  9. 
Dos-a-dos,  30. 

DosTOEVSKY,  Feodor,  338. 
Double  entendre,  28. 
Double  negatives,  70. 

Dough-face,  32. 

Doughnut,  14. 

Draper's  shop,  or  dry  goods  store,  15. 

Drawing-room,  or  parlor,  14. 

Drawn  from,  not  based  on  or  repeated 
from,  sources,  116. 

Drayton,  Michael,  101. 

Dreary,  76. 

Dregs,  writing  a  subject  to  the,  170. 

Druggist,  or  chemist,  15. 

Drummer,  for  commercial  traveller, 
17. 

Drv  goods  store,  or  draper's  shop, 
15. 

Dryden,  John,  11,  37,  60,  141,  165, 
189,  226. 

DtTMAs,  Alexander,  288. 

Dumb,  for  stupid,  43. 

Dutch,  words  from  the,  27. 

Dynamite,  99. 

Dyspepsia,  99. 

E. 

Each  fiercer  than  the  others,  47. 
Each  knowing  more  than  the  others, 

48. 
Each  more  homelike  and  habitable 

than  the  last,  48. 
Each     more    outlandish    than    the 

other,  47. 
Earle,  John,  35,  66,  201,  204. 
Earlier, original  meaning  of  rather,  3. 


410 


INDEX. 


Ease  (as  applied  to  Choice  of 
Words),  132-144;  meaning  and 
value  of,  132;  how  far  it  may  be 
acquired,  133 ;  dangers  of  a  con- 
scious struggle  for,  134,  144 ; 
harsh  sounds,  134  ;  alliteration  in 
excess,  136;  a  word  in  two  senses, 
137 ;  two  words  in  the  same 
Bense,  137 ;  harsh  constructions, 
138;  trivial  expressions,  140;  not 
always  compatible  witli  force,  142 ; 
not  an  end  in  itself,  143.  (As  ap- 
plied to  Number  of  Words),  175- 
176 :  should  not  be  purchased  at 
the  cost  of  things  more  impor- 
tant, 176.  (Asapplied  to  Arrange- 
ment), 198-208:  false  emphasis, 
198;  bow  to  end  a  sentence,  199; 
position  of  adverbial  and  paren- 
thetic expressions,  202 ;  imitation 
of  foreign  order,  204  ;  tlieories  of 
Benthani  and  Spencer,  207 ;  the 
natural  order  the  best,  207 ;  in 
paragraphs,  234 ;  iu  whole  com- 
positions, 239. 

Eastlake,  C.  L.,  34. 

Edgevvorth,  Maria,  180,  199. 

Edifying,  115. 

"  Edinburgh  Review  "  (the),  44. 

Educationalist,  33. 

E'en,  35. 

E'er,  35. 

Effect,  preferable  to  effectuate,  21. 

Effect,  iu  description,  that  suggests 
cause,  270 ;  arguments  based  on 
relation  of  cause  and,  350,  354- 
361,  375. 

Eg;;,  Oval,  99. 

Egoism,  Egotism,  distinguished,  19. 

Egoist,  for  egotist,  19. 

Egyptian  hieroglyphic  symbols, 
number  of,  75. 

Either,  at  end  of  negative  sentence, 
6  ;  misuse  of,  54. 

Either,  or,  (correspondents),  position 
of,  178. 

Elective,  as  noun,  12. 

Electricity,  99. 

Electrocution,  33. 

Elegant,  75. 

Elegantness,  to  be  avoided,  21. 

Elevator,  or  lift,  15  ;  origin  of  word, 
99. 

Eliminating,  43. 


Eliot,  Charles  William,  352, 400. 

Eliot,  George,  16,  19,  29,  38,  49, 
53,  69,91,  92,  104,  116,  120, 'l  21, 
122,  125,  128,  131,  146,  156,  175, 
195,  235,  263,267,  268,  289,  298, 
373,  395. 

Ellis,  Annie  Raine,  205. 

Eloquence,  defined  by  Emerson,  91  ; 
that  defeats  its  purpose,  397. 

Embargo,  27. 

Emerson,  Ralph  Waldo,  10,  91, 
107,  110,  131,  132,  137,  149,  152, 
168,  170,  175,  195,  211,228,  241, 
,245,  301,  398. 

Emeute,  16. 

Emotion  in  description,  256-262. 
See  Feelings. 

Emphasis,  false,  198. 

Emphatic  position  in  a  sentence, 
184-188. 

En  grande  toilette,  30. 

"  Encyclopaedia  Britannica"  (the), 
85. 

End,  Terminus,  3. 

End  and  aim,  156. 

Endings  of  sentences,  weak,  187; 
formal  and  informal,  199-201. 

England,  words  peculiar  to,  14. 

English,  false  tests  of  good,  2 ;  the 
true  test  of  good,  7 ;  British  and 
American,  13-15;  difficulty  in  de- 
termining what  is  good,  72. 

English  arrangement,  limitation  on, 
as  compared  with  the  Latin,  184  ; 
less  periodic  than  the  Latin,  220. 

English  language,  undergoes  com- 
paratively few  grammatical 
chauges  of  form,  48;  not  dead, 
72 ;  composite,  100. 

English,  pulpit.    See  PuJpit  English. 

English  words  with  foreign  mean- 
ings, 43. 

Enormity,  distinguished  from  enor- 
monsness,  38 ;  wrongly  used,  44. 

Entail,  for  involve,  12. 

Enthsmiemes,  343. 

Entire,  the,  distinguished  from  all, 
41  ;  wrongly  used,  45. 

Entre  nous,  30. 

Environment,  77. 

Envoy,  27. 

Epigram,  324. 

Episodes  in  novels,  288. 

Epithet,  the  constant,  160. 


INDEX. 


411 


Epoch-making,  77. 

Equivocal  pronouns,  84. 

Equivocal  words  require  definition, 
95,  310 

Ere,  9 

Erskine,  Thomas,  377. 

Erst,  9. 

Esculent  succulent,  164. 

Essayist,  an,  may  ramble,  290. 

Essays,  personal,  not  exposition,  301. 

Etiquette,  27. 

Etymological  theory  in  the  choice 
and  use  of  words,  2-4,  96-102. 

Euphemisms,  109. 

Euphony,  origin  of  the  word,  27. 

Euphony,  the  rule  of,  21  ;  iniiuence 
of,  oil  tlie  language,  21  ;  words 
prohibited  by,  21  ;  brevity  may 
be  sacrificed  to,  22 ;  undue  weight 
not  to  be  given  to,  22 ;  included 
in  the  term  ease,  132 ;  offences 
against,  134-136.     See  Ease. 

Evasion,  for  escape,  43,  44. 

Ever  (always),  9. 

Evidence,  a  word  of  ambiguous 
meaning,  94. 

Evidence,  334-341 :  matters  of  fact 
and  matters  of  opinion,  334 :  de- 
rived from  testimony,  335-341  ; 
derived  from  authority,  336 ;  di- 
rect and  circumstantial,  339-341 ; 
amount  re([uired  depends  on  cir- 
cumstances, 374.     See  Testimoni/. 

Evidently,  Apparently,  distin- 
guished, 39. 

Exaggeration,  excessive  use  of  anti- 
thesis leads  to,  192. 

Exam,  for  examination,  35. 
Examine  into,  20. 

Example,  argument  from,  defined, 
354 ;  two  classes  of  arguments 
from,  361  ;  illustrative  distin- 
guished from  argumentative  ex- 
amples, 361  ;  argumentative  ex- 
amples vary  in  force,  363;  argu- 
ment from  analogy  a  form  of 
argument  from,  364-368 ;  falla- 
cious arguments  from.  368-373 ; 
argument  from,  comliiiied  with 
that  from  antecedent  probability 
and  from  sign,  376  ;  place  in  ar- 
rangement of  proof,  383.  See 
Andlogy. 
Exceeding  (exceedingly),  9. 


Exceptional,  distinguished  from  ex- 
ceptionable, 38  ;  wrongly  used,  44. 

Exciting,  75. 

Exclamations,  function  of,  97. 

Exhibition,  preferable  to  exposition, 
28. 

Existence,  Being,  3. 

pjxordiums,  persuasion  in,  388,  395. 

Experience,    all    arguments    based 
ou,  379. 

Experience,  to,  33. 

Experts,  testimony  of,  336. 

Expose,    exposants,    expositor,   for 
exhibit,  etc.,  28. 

Exposer,  28. 

Exposition,  for  exhibition,  28. 

Exposition,  discriminated  from 
other  kinds  of  composition,  247 ; 
scientific  description  has  much  in 
common  with,  253 ;  chapter  on, 
300-326:  defined,  300;  function 
of,  301 ;  definition  the  sim])lest 
form  of,  302  ;  definitions  that  are, 
302-307  ;  distinguished  from  sci- 
entific uescr'ption,  303  ;  not  con- 
fined to  the  general,  307-310; 
clearness  the  first  requisite  of, 
310-318;  judicious  repetition 
in,  312;  orderly  arrangement  in, 
314;  adaptation  to  hearer  or 
reader,  318;  unity  in,  319-323; 
principles  that  govern  all  good 
writing  apply  to,  323 ;  coml>ined 
with  description  and  narration, 
324-326  ;  examples  of,  326  ;  argu- 
ment distinguished  from,  327, 
in  the  form  of,  327,  prepared  for 
by,  328. 

Expression,  forms  of.  See  Forms 
of  expression. 

Expressions,  idiomatic,  5 ;  trivial,  in 
serious  writing,  140 ;  position  of 
subordinate,  179. 
Extradited,  34. 
Extravnqanza,  29. 

Extremes,  truth  rarely  to  be  found 
in,  192. 


F. 


Fact,  in  what  proportion  to  be 
combined  with  fancy  in  descrip- 
tion, 256;  matters  of,  distinguished 
from  matters  of  opinion,  334. 


412 


INDEX. 


Factor,  77 

Fain,  9. 

Fair  sex,  the,  164. 

Fairest  of  her  daughters,  47. 

Faith,  94. 

Fallacies,  of  deduction,  344-349 ; 
begging  the  question,  344  ;  argu- 
ing beside  the  point,  347;  of  in- 
duction, 350-352  ;  post  hoc,  propter 
hoc,  351 ;  in  argument  from  ante- 
cedent probability,  3G1 ;  in  argu- 
ment from  example,  368 ;  in 
argument  from  sign,  375. 

Fallacy,  the  pathetic,  257-262. 

Fallacy  of  confusion,  347-349, 

False  analogies,  369-373. 

False  emphasis,  198. 

False  orthography,  3. 

Falsely  misrepresents,  154. 

Falseness,  Falsity,  distinguished,  19. 

Farina,  Flour,  Meal,  2,  3. 

Farrar,  F.  W.,  94,  349. 

Fascinating,  75. 

Fashion  in  words,  26,  36. 

Fastidiousness  in  the  use  of  lan- 
guage, 3-5. 

Faucet,  or  tap,  15. 

Faux  jias,  30. 

Feather,  Plume,  99. 

Feature,  77. 

Feeling,  77. 

Feelings,  expressed  by  gestures  and 
exclamations,  96  ;  persuasion  ad- 
dresses the,  386, 394 ,   See  Emutlon. 

Ferguson,  Adam,  57. 

Ferrier,  Susan  E.,  45,  262. 

Fetch  up,  for  bring  up  (a  child),  12. 

Fetching,  for  taking  or  attractive, 
17. 

Feux  d'artifice,  16. 

Fiction,  method  in,  297-299 ;  use  of 
antecedent  probability  in,  357. 

FiELWNG,  Henry,  13,  245,  288. 

Figurative  language,  joined  with 
literal^  127  ;  compared  with  literal, 
131. 

Figures  of  speech.  See  Metaphors, 
Similes,  Tropes. 

Fine  writing,  defined,  102;  vulgar- 
ity of,  102  ;  examples  of,  102 ;  in 
the  pulpit,  103;  Georj^e  Eliot  on, 
104 ;  desire  to  be  humorous  a 
potent  cause  of,  104 ;  Dickens 
responsible  for  much,  104;  desig- 


nation of  a  specific  object  by  a 
general  term  one  form  of,  105. 

Finery,  borrowed  verbal,  28;  less 
common  than  formerly,  29. 

Finicky,  17. 

Fire,  Gas,  2,  3. 

Fire's  devastation,  the,  50. 

Fire-room,  or  stoke-hole,  15. 

Fir.st  aggressor,  154. 

Fish-flakes,  14. 

Fit  (in  good  physical  condition),  13 

Flimsy,  33. 

Flit,  flitting,  12. 

Flour,  Farma,  Meal,  2,  3. 

Folks,  12. 

Follow  after,  20. 

For,  wrongly  used,  68. 

For  sale,  rather  than  to  be  sold,  20. 

For  to,  26. 

Force  (as  applied  to  Choice  of 
Words),  111-132;  meaning  and 
value  of.  111;  sound  that  sug- 
gests sense,  112;  a  clear  expres- 
sion not  always  forcible,  113; 
{)romoted  by  use  of  figurative 
anguage,  114-131;  not  always 
compatible  with  ease,  142;  not  an 
end  in  itself,  143.  (As  applied  to 
Number  of  Words),  150-174:  too 
many  words,  150;  skilful  and  un- 
skilful repetition,  150-153;  re- 
dundancy in  all  its  forms  a  sin 
against,  154-168;  useful  circum- 
locutions, 167;  a  suggestive  style, 
168;  in  reserve,  171;  mispla"ced 
brevity,  174;  details  that  are 
effective,  174.  (As  applied  to 
Arrangement),  184-198  :  impor- 
tant words  in  emphatic  places, 
184;  limitation  on  the  English 
arrangement,  184;  the  usual 
order  not  always  the  best,  185; 
weak  beginnings,  187  ;  weak  end- 
ings, 187;  often  gained  by  antith- 
esis, 1 88 ;  excesses  in  the  use  of 
antithesis,  191  ;  climax,  anti- 
climax, 192-195;  position  of 
similes,  196;  false  emphasis  hos- 
tile to,  198;  in  paragraphs,  233; 
in  whole  compositions,  239 ;  in 
order  of  arguments,  383-385. 

Foreign  fashions  in  spelling,  31. 

Foreign  nouns,  errors  in  use  of,  49. 

Foreign  order,  imitation  of,  204-207. 


INDEX. 


413 


Foreign  origin,  good  use  applied  to 
words  of,  28. 

Foreign  words  and  phrases,  use  of, 
regulated  by  good  taste,  15;  to 
which  English  equivalents  are 
preferable,  16;  temptation  to  use, 
28-  30 ;  often  hard  to  find  English 
equivalents  for,  30. 

Formations  of  words,  new,  33. 

Former,  the,  misuse  of,  .54. 

Forms,  abbreviated,  34. 

Forms  of  expression,  of  two,  choose 
the  one  susceptible  of  but  one 
interpretation,  18 ;  choose  the 
simpler,  19;  choose  the  shorter, 
21 ;  choose  that  wliich  is  the 
more  agreeable  to  the  ear,  21. 

FoRSTER,  John,  23,  46. 

"Fortnightlv  Review  "  (the),  53,  83, 
85,  138,  199,  362. 

"Forum"  (the),  352,400. 

Forward,  forwards,  21. 

Forwarder,  for  more  forward,  22. 

Foss,  Bishop  Cyrus  D.,  368. 

Fracas,  16. 

Francis,  Sir  Philip,  374. 

Franklin,  Benjamin,  78,  163,  368, 
370,  388,  392. 

Freeman,  E.  A.,  13,  23,  26,  31,  84. 

Free-soiler,  32. 

Freight-train,  or  goods-train,  15. 

French,  words  from  the,  2,  27. 

Fresh,  for  verdant  or  presuming,  17. 

Freshen  up,  20. 

Frigid  writing,  125. 

Fro,  to  and,  5. 

From,  wrongly  used,  68. 

Frothingham,  Ellen,  268. 

Fun,  23,  33. 

Funeral  obsequies,  154. 

Fungi,  for  fungus,  49. 

Funn}^  for  strange,  17. 

Furore,  29. 

Fustian,  33. 


G. 

Sfaiete  du  cceur,  29. 

Gallicisms,  43. 

Galore,  77. 

Galton,  Francis,  106,  356,  378. 

Games,  Athletics,  2,  3. 

Gamin,  16. 


Garfield,  James  A.,  195. 

Garrisonian,  32. 

Gas,  Eire,  2,  3. 

Gas,  gaseous,  gasometer,  33. 

Gates,  Lewis  E.,  394. 

Gay  young  man,  for  dissipated 
young  man,  109. 

General  terms,  ambiguity  of,  94; 
designation  of  specific  objects  by, 
one  form  of  fine  writing,  105 ; 
compared  with  specific,  105-111: 
uses  of,  1 08 ;  when  preferable  to 
specific,  1 09  ;  stimulate  the  imagi- 
nation, 110;  proportion  of,  varies 
with  kind  of  composition,  HI. 

Generousest,  for  most  generous,  22. 

Genitive  case.     See  Possessive  case. 

Gent,  for  gentleman,  35. 

Gentleman  identified  with  the  build- 
ing interest,  102. 

German  arrangement,  204. 

German  sentences,  De  Quincey  on, 
218. 

Germanisms,  43. 

Gerrymander,  14. 

Gestures,  function  of,  97. 

Gettvsburg  speech,  Lincoln's,  172, 
398. 

Ghastlv,  75. 

Gibbon,  Edward,  191,  227. 

GiFFEN,  Robert,  300. 

Gifted,  33. 

Gives  upon,  for  looks  upon,  43,  45. 

Gladstone,  W.  E.,  126,  172,  338. 

Glamour,  76. 

Godlily,  prohibited,  21. 

Godly,  one  form  for  adjective  and 
adverb,  22. 

Goes  without  saying,  43. 

Goethe,  Johann  Wolfgang  von, 
320. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  51,  63,  133, 
170,  175,  189,  245. 

Gong,  27. 

Good,  for  well,  68. 

Good  English.     See  EnrjJish. 

Godd  sense  as  guide,  16,  18,  394. 

Good  taste,  15,  16,  140. 

Good  use,  1-24:  importnnce  of  cor* 
rectuess  in  the  use  of  language,  1; 
grammatical  purity  defined,  2 ; 
false  tests  of  good  English,  2 ; 
fastidiousness,  3  :  idioms,  5 ;  tlie 
true  test  of  good  English,  7 ;  ia 


414 


INDEX. 


eludes  present,  national,  and  rep- 
utable use,  8  ;  preseut  us^e,  8-1 1  ; 
national  use,  11-16;  British  aud 
American  usage,  13-15;  foreigu 
words  aud  phrases,  15,  reputalile 
use,  16-17;  no  authority  not  de- 
rived from,  17;  analogy  between 
law  and  language,  17  ;  the  rule  of 
precision,  18;  the  rule  of  siui- 
plicity,  20;  the  rule  of  eupliouy, 
21 ;  good  use  supreme,  22-24 ; 
determined  by  the  masters,  37. 
For  violations  of,  see  Barbarisms, 
Improprieties,  Solecisms. 

Goodliest  man  of  men  since  bom,  47. 

Goods-train,  or  freight-train,  15. 

Gorgeous,  75. 
'  Gotten,  27. 

Graduate,  preferable  to  post-gradu- 
ate, 21. 

Graham,  Wjxliam,  180,  182,  209, 
210. 

Grain,  or  corn,  15. 

Grainger,  James,  165. 

Grammar,  foundations  of  rhetoric 
rest  upon,  1. 

Grammarians  have  no  authority  not 
derived  from  good  use,  17. 

Grammatical  connection  between 
words  not  logically  connected,  213. 

Grammatical  correctness  does  not 
insure  clearness,  83. 

Grammatical  purity,  a  requisite  of 
good  writing,  1 ;  defined,  2. 

Grammatical  syntax,  violation  of, 
universal,  1,  48-49;  violation  of, 
inexcusable  in  a  writer,  48.  See 
So/ecisms. 

Grant,  Ulysses  S.,  369,  370. 

Gratis,  99. 

Gray,  Asa,  302,  303. 

Gray,  Thomas,  21,  41,  117,  129, 
130,  269. 

Great,  Magnificent,  3. 

Greek,  words  from  the,  2,  27,  97,  99. 

Greek  arrangement,  204. 

Greek  deities,  called  by  Greek  rather 
than  by  Latia  names,  32 ;  Arnold's 
view,  32 ;  opposite  view  taken  by 
Bryant,  32. 

Green-grocer,  14. 

Greenough,  -James  B.,  220-222. 

Grew,  Nehemiah,  375,  376. 

Grip,  for  cable-car,  12. 


Grip  or  grip-sack,  for  hand-bag,  12 

Gkote,  George,  32. 

Grove,  JSir  George,  209. 

Grundy,  C.  H.,  104,  165. 

Guard,  or  conductor,  15. 

"  Guardian"  (the),  72. 

Guess,  to,  12. 

GuizoT,  307. 

Gumption,  17. 

Gums,  for  over-shoes,  12. 

Gunning  sisters,  270. 

Guthrie,  VV.  1).,  344. 

Gutta-percha,  27. 

Gym,  for  gymnasium,  35. 


H. 

Haberdasher,  14. 

Hack,  or  cab,  14  ;  abbreviated  from 

hackney-coach,  34. 
Had  better,  5,  6. 
Had  rather,  5. 
Hadley,  James,  100. 
Hail  irom,  to,  12. 
Hair-wash,  for  hair-dye,  109. 
Hale,  Edward  Everett,  97,  285. 
Hall,  Fitzedward,  5,  24,  38,  72. 
Hallam,  Henry,  57,  201. 
Hammock,  27. 
Handicap,  77. 

Handiwork,  Manufacture,  3. 
Handy,  Manual,  3,  99. 
Haply,  Happily,  distinguished,  38. 
Hard  pan,  to  get  down  to,  13. 
Hard  vip,  17. 
Hard-shell,  32. 
"  Harper's  Magazine,"  344. 
Harrison,  Frederick,  138. 
Harsh  constructions,  138. 
Harsh  sounds,  134.     See  Euphony. 
Harte,  Francis  Bret,  284. 
Harum-scarum,  4. 
Hath,  9. 
Haul  ton,  30. 
Hawker,  14. 
Hawthorne,   Nathaniel,  34,  47, 

68,   120,   123,  154,   173,  232,  237, 

284,  298. 
Hayne,  Robert  Y.,  308,  310,  399. 
Hazlitt,  Wtlmam,  57. 
Mealthful,   Healthy,    distinguished, 
^38. 
Heavenlily,  prohibited,  21. 


INDEX. 


415 


Heavenly,  one  form  for  adjective 

and  adverb,  22. 
Heigh-ho,  112. 
Helen  of  Troy,  271. 
Helps,   Sir  Arthcr,  27,  51,  161, 

198. 
Helter-skelter,  4,  5. 
Hence,  preferable  to  from  hence,  20. 
Henley,  William  Ernest,  264. 
Henry,  Patrick,  365,  391. 
Herdie,  14. 
Herodotus,  338. 
Herkick,  Kobkut,  141. 
Heterogeneous  ideas  in  one  sentence, 

208-211. 
HiGGiNSON,  Henry  Lee,  225. 
Higgledy-pigij^k'dy,  4. 
Hindoostanec,  word  from  the,  27. 
Hiss,  112. 
Hist,  112. 

History,  method  in,  295-297. 
Hitch  up,  for  harness,  12. 
Hoax,  di. 

HoBBEs,  Thomas,  189. 
Hocus-pocus,  4. 
Hodge-podge,  4. 

Hof.MES,  Ot.tvek  Wendell,  129,  2.57. 
Holmes,  Oliver  Wendell,  Jr  , 

173. 
Homer,  30,  If.O,  1G5,  258,  268,  271, 

275  277,  284,  .'520. 
Hcjmeward.  homewards,  21. 
Honestest,  for  most  honest,  22. 
House's  roof,  a,  50. 
How,  misuse  of,  90. 
How  very  interesting,  75. 
Hubbub,  112. 
Hue  and  cry,  5. 
Hughes,  Thomas,  59,  293. 
Hum,  for  humbug,  35. 
Human,  Humane,  distinguished,  38. 
Humbug,  33. 
Hume,    David,    55,    57,    147,   200, 

331. 
Humming-bird,  112. 
Hunker.  .52. 
Hurly  burly,  4. 
Hurrv-scurry,  4. 
Hu.sh,  112. 
Hustings,  14. 
Hustle,  hustler,  17. 
HuTTON,  Laurence,  100. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  121,  189,  307,  353. 
Hyp,  for  hypochondria,  34. 


I,  more  modest  than  we,  the  present 
writer,  or  the  undersigned,  103. 

I',  for  in,  35. 

Idealism,  94. 

Idealist,  33. 

Idioms,  defined,  5 ;  give  life  to 
style,  5 ;  examples  of,  5-7 ;  his- 
tory of,  6. 

Ignoralio  elenchi,  344. 

Ignore,  23. 

Ilk,  17. 

"Illustrated  London  News'  (the), 
210. 

Illustrations,  need  of,  as  aid  to  de- 
scription, 250. 

Illustrative  examples  distinguished 
from  argumentative,  361. 

Imagination,  110,  111,  112,  128,  131, 
170,  250,  251,  2.54,  255,  260,261, 
262.  280,  300,  301,   394. 

Imliastardized,  22. 

Imbroglio,  27. 

Imitation  of  foreign  order,  204-207. 

Important  words  in  emphatic  places, 
184. 

Impracticable,  for  impassable,  43, 44. 

Improprieties,  violations  of  good 
use,  2.') ;  section  on,  37-48 :  de- 
fined, 37 ;  resemblance  in  sound 
mi.'ileads,  37  ;  resemblance  in  sense 
misleads,  39 ;  John  Stuart  Mill's 
comments  on,  41  ;  English  words 
with  foreign  meanings,  43 ;  in 
phrases,  47  ;  sometimes  rhetori- 
cally defensible,  47. 

In  bad  form,  17. 

In  course,  for  of  course,  33. 

In  extenso,  16. 

In  extremis,  16. 

In  lieu  of,  21. 

In  medias  res,  30. 

In  our  midst,  50. 

In  the  like  sort,  26. 

In  the  swim,  17. 

In  touch  with,  77. 

Inaugurated.  103. 

Incog,  for  incognito,  34. 

Income-tax  cases,  344,  386. 

Indeed,  148. 

Index,  99. 

Indian,  North  American,  words  from 
the,  27  ;  West,  word  from  the,  27. 


416 


INDEX. 


India-rubbers,  for  over-shoes,  12. 

Indicative  mood,  distiuguislied  from 
the  subjunctive  66  ;  misuse  of,  67. 

Indispeusablest,  for  most  indispen- 
sable, 22. 

Induction,  defined,  341  ;  explained, 
349 ;  based  on  causal  connection, 
350;  fallacies  of,  350-352;  post 
hoc,  propter  hoc,  351 ;  connection 
between  deduction  and,  352  ;  com- 
bined with  deduction,  352. 

Indulge  in  minatory  expressions, 
103. 

Infinitive,  tense  of,  relative  to  that 
of  main  verb,  65  ;  adverb  with,  69. 

Informational,  33. 

-ing,  active  form  ending  in,  prefer- 
able to  passive  form  with  being, 
20 ;  repetition  of  words  ending  in, 
134. 

Inspire  into,  20, 

Instead  of,  preferable  to  in  lieu  of,  21. 

"  Instilment  of  conviction,"  387. 

Insurance,  Assurance,  19. 

Intelligible,  Trollope's  definition  of, 
82. 

Intents  and  purposes,  156. 

Interest,  duty  of  a  writer  to,  246. 

Intermezzo,  29. 

"International  Review"  (the),  84. 

Interview,  to,  33. 

Intheatricable,  34. 

Intolerable  to  be  borne,  154. 

Introduction  to  an  argument  should 
be  short,  388. 

Invent,  Discover,  distinguished,  39. 

Inwit,  101. 

Ironical  arguments,  331. 

Irony  of  fate,  the,  77. 

Irregularities,  for  forgeries,  109. 

Irving,  Washington,  4,  31,  97, 108, 
133,  140,  175,  200,  263,  275,  284. 

Issuance,  34. 

It  seems  to  me,  77. 

Italian,  words  from  the,  27. 

Italian  operatic  vocabulary,  75. 

Iteration,  151-153. 

Its,  objection  to,  unsound,  3,  23. 


J. 

James,  Henry,  189,  284. 
James,  William,  306. 


Jesse,  Captain  William,  270. 
Jevons,  William  Stanley,  93, 347 
Jockeij,  28. 
Johnson,    Samuel,  8,  23,  85,   99, 

1.50,  155,  157,  163,  191,  205,  226, 

232,  245. 
Johnson,  W.,  94,  349. 
"  .Johnsonese  "  arrangement,  205. 
Jolly,  75. 

Jones,  Sir  William,  98. 
JoNSON,  Ben,  36. 
Jowett,  Benjamin,  330. 
Jug,  or  pitcher,  15. 
Junius,  191,374. 
Juvenal,  338. 


K. 

Kant,  Immanuel,  218,  364. 

Keats,  John,  80,  120,  123,  196,255, 
259,  269,  273,  377. 

Kemble,  Frances  Anne,  262. 

Kin,  kith  and,  5,  156. 

Kinds  of  composition,  247-400 : 
four  kinds  discriminated,  247 ; 
distinct  in  theory  but  combined  in 
practice,  247 ;  description,  249- 
280;  narration,  281-299;  exposi- 
tion, 300-326 ;  argument,  327-400. 

Kinds  of  sentences,  216-230: 
short  or  long,  216-220;  periodic 
or  loose,  220-226  ;  balanced,  226- 
227  ;  each  kind  has  its  use,  228- 
230. 

Kine,  9. 

Kipling,  Rudyard,  169,  278,  283, 
285. 

Kith  and  kin,  5,  156. 

Kittredge,  G.  L.,  100. 

Kudos,  16. 


Laborite,  32. 

Lamb,  Charles,  90,  204,  301,  363. 

Lamont,  Hammond,  326. 

Lamp  of  day,  the,  164. 

Landor,  Walter  Savage,  3,  21, 
23,  31,  52,  100,  135,  167,  175, 
226. 

Language,  importance  of  correct- 
ness in  the  use  of,  1 ;  fastidious- 
ness in,  3  ;  should  be  easily  under- 


INDEX. 


417 


stood,  7 ;  possibility  of  a  distinct 
American,  14 ;  analogy  between 
law  and,  1 7  ;  simplicity  in,  20 ;  in- 
fluence of  the  principle  of  euphony 
upon,  21;  Swift's  proposal  for  fix- 
ing, 25  ;  fashion  in,  26  ;  novelties 
in,  27;  custom  the  most  certain 
mistress  of,  35  ;  mode  of  grow1;h  of, 
37 ;  poverty  of,  in  school  composi- 
tions, 74 ;  poverty  of,  the  source 
of  much  slang,  75 ;  should  not 
call  attention  to  itself,  82  ;  literal, 
joined  with  fitjurative,  127  ;  literal, 
compared  with  figurative,  131  ; 
compared  with  painting  and  sculp- 
ture, 249-251.  ^eeClearness,  Ease, 
Eloquence,  English  language,  Force, 
Good  use.  Words. 

Lapworth,  Charles,  379. 

Late  unpleasantness,  the,  1 09. 

Latin,  words  from,  compared  with 
words  from  Anglo-Saxon,  96-102. 

Latin  arrangement,  variety  in,  as 
compared  with  the  English,  184; 
imitation  of,  204 ;  periodic,  220. 

Latin  names  of  Greek  deities,  32. 

Latter,  the,  misuse  of,  54. 

Laundered,  34. 

Law,  analogy  between  language 
and,  17. 

Law's  delay,  the,  50. 

Learn,  for  teach,  13. 

Learn  up,  20. 

Lease,  distinguished  from  let,  40 ; 
wrongly  used,  46. 

Le  Brun,  Madame,  53. 

Leckt,  W.  E.  H.,  64,  78. 

"  Leeds  Mercury  "  (the),  30. 

Lengthy,  14. 

Lesseps,  Ferpinand  de,  369. 

Lessino,  Gotthold  Ephraim,  251, 
268.  274. 

Let,  to,  rather  than  to  be  let,  20 ; 
distinguished  from  lease,  40. 

Leverrier,  353. 

Levity,  115. 

Lewis,  Sir  George  Corxewall, 
56,  94,  364. 

Lexicographers  have  no  authority 
not  derived  from  good  use,  17, 
22. 

Liabili'^y,  wrongly  used,  46. 

Liable,  (listingui.shed  from  likely,  39 ; 
wrongly  used,  46. 
1,S* 


Liberal,  94. 

Liberty,  94. 

Lief,  as,  5,  23. 

Lift,  or  elevator,  15. 

Likely,  Liable,  distinguished,  39. 

Limit,  Limitation,  distinguished, 
19. 

Limitation,  on  the  English  arrange- 
ment as  compared  with  the  Latin, 
184,  220  ;  on  language  as  a  means 
of  description,  249 ;  on  painting 
and  sculpture  as  means  of  descrip- 
tion, 250. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  23,  172,  190, 
365,  368,  377,  398. 

Line,  in  his,  12. 

Lines,  for  reins,  12;  along  these, 
77. 

LiNGARD,  John,  69. 

LiNN.EtTS,  255. 

Literal  language,  joined  v.'ith  figura- 
tive, 127;  compared  with  figura- 
tive, 131. 

Lobby,  lobbying,  lobbyist,  14. 

Loco-foco,  32. 

London's  life,  50. 

Lonely,  76. 

Long  sentences,  compared  with 
short,  216-220. 

Longfellow,  Henry  Wadsworth, 
63,  122,  123,  277. 

"  Longman's  Magazine,"  14,  34. 

Looks  bad,  for  looks  badly,  68. 

Looks  good,  for  looks  well,  68. 

Loose  sentences,  defined,  220;  com- 
pared with  periodic,  220-226. 

Low  origin,  words  of,  32-33. 

Lowell,  Charles  Russell,  173. 

Lowell,  James  Russell,  102,  120, 
121,142,  165,  261,  269,  295. 

Lower  down,  20. 

Lowlily,  prohibited,  21. 

Lowly,  one  form  for  adjective  and 
adverb,  22. 

LowTii,  Bishop  Robert,  23. 

Luggage,  or  baggage,  14. 

Luggage-vnn,  or  baggage-car,  15. 

Lumber,  lumberer,  lumberman,  lum- 
ber-yard, 15. 

-ly,  certain  words  ending  in,  pro- 
hibitod,  21,  22  ;  repetition  of  word* 
ending  in,  134. 

Lyricated,  34. 

Lytton.    See  Bulwer-Lytton. 


418 


INDEX. 


M. 

Macaroni,  27. 

Macaulay,  Thomas  Baringto\,  6, 
7,  11,  31,  36,  56,  71,  83,  84.  87, 
ISfj,  160,  191,  1!)2.  ]<)4.  20.5,  207, 
232,  294,  343,  370,  372,  374,  399. 

"Macmillau's  Magazine,"  52,  104, 
165. 

Magnificent,  Great,  3. 

Magnum  opus,  30. 

Mahomet,  or  Mohammed,  31. 

Mahon,  Lord,  158. 

Mail,  or  post,  14. 

Main  idea,  of  a  sentence  should  be 
presented  as  such,  214  ;  of  a  para- 
graph should  be  indicated  in  first 
sentence,  231,  should  be  made 
prominent,  233,  is  sometimes  given 
in  condensed  form  at  the  end,  234, 
should  be  and  should  appear  such, 
236  ;  may  be  used  with  effect  in 
whole  compositions,  240 ;  of  a  nar- 
rative should  be  kept  constantly 
in  mind,  294. 

Maize,  or  corn,  15. 

Makers,  for  poets,  23. 

Mai  de  mer,  16. 

Malay,  words  from  the,  27. 

Mallock,  W.  H.,  65,  70,  71. 

Man  of  talent,  23. 

Man's  description,  a,  50. 

Managerial,  33. 

Manly,  Mannish,  distinguished,  39. 

Manual,  Handy,  3,  99. 

Manufacture,  Handiwork,  3. 

Many  a,  6. 

Mark  Antony's  speech,  172. 

Marryat,  Captain,  84,  134, 180. 

Marsh,  George  P.,  2,  9,  50,  54, 
7.5,  97,  98,  194,200,  205. 

Marshall,  Chief  Justice,  172, 
323. 

Masson,  David,  70, 139,  295. 

Masters,  good  use  determined  by 
the,  37. 

Matador,  27. 

Motinte,  29. 

Maudslev,  Henry,  85. 

Maupassant,  Guy  de,  284. 

Maurice,  F.  D.,  85. 

McCarthy,  .Jitstin,  64,  65,  195. 

Meadow,  Prairie,  3. 

Meal,  Farina,  Flour,  2,  3. 


Means,  this,  objected  to  by  Lander, 
23. 

Meeting,  Convention,  3. 

Melange,  29. 

Member  (of  Congress),  99. 

Mention,  Allude,  Kefer,  distin- 
guished, 39. 

Merceuariness,  to  be  avoided,  21. 

Mercy's  sake,  for,  50. 

Meredith,  George,  19. 

Meseemeth,  26. 

Messager,  23. 

Messenger,  23. 

Metaphorical  expressions  joined  with 
literal,  127. 

Metaphors,  117-128:  distinguished 
from  similes,  118;  reason  for  fre- 
quent superiority  of,  118;  when 
similes  are  preferalde  to,  120; 
position  of,  when  combined  with 
similes,  122;  condensed,  123;  sus- 
tained, 124;  nii.xed.  126. 

Metes  and  hounds,  156. 

Method,  analytic,  synthetic,  in  ex- 
position, 314. 

Method  in  movement  (in  Narra- 
tion), essential  to  a  good  narrative, 
281 ;  section  on,  289-299  :  mean- 
ing and  value  of,  289 ;  one  point 
of  view,  290  ;  a  central  idea,  294 ; 
in  biography,  295  ;  in  history,  295  ; 
in  fiction,  297  ;  method  and  lack 
of  method  in  well-known  authors, 
298-299 ;  perfect  method  does  not 
make  perfect  narrative,  299. 

Methodist,  33. 

Metonymy,  116-117. 

Mickle,  for  much,  23. 

'Mid,  35. 

"  Midway  Plaisance,"  9. 

Might  better,  5. 

Mill,  .John  Stuart,  9,  41,  43,  55, 
57,  70,  72,  94,  127,  129,  178,  179, 
199,  200,  204,  207,  307,  326,  345, 
348,  349,  352,  364,  369,  371,  372, 
399. 

Milman,  Henry  Hart,  181. 

Milton,  John,  8,  13,  22,  23,  30,  47, 
52,  75,  97,  100,  107,  111,  112,  128, 
152,  160,  174,  186,  196,  222,  269, 
295,  320. 

Mine,  as  in  "mine  host,"  9. 

Mins,  for  minutes,  35. 

Mint  julep,  14. 


INDEX. 


419 


MiNTO,  William,  192,  297,  365. 
Minus,  12. 

Miiiutia,  minutiaes,  for  minutise,  49. 
Misappropriation   of    property,   for 

embezzlement,  109. 
Misplaced  brevity,  174. 
Miss,  abbreviated  from  IMistress,  34. 
Mix  up,  20. 

Idaxed  metaphors,  126. 
Mob,  abbreviated  from  mobile  vulgus, 

34 
Mob,  to  mob,    mobbish,  mob-rule, 

mob-law,  23,  33. 
Moccasin,  14,  27. 
MOLESWORTH,  Mks.,  67,  157. 
Monotony,  fatal  to  persuasion,  396. 
Montaigne,  80,  240,  301. 
"Montreal  Gazette"  (the),  44. 
Moohummudan,  31. 
Morceaii,  16.  , 

More,  pleonastic,  158. 
More    forward,    preferable  to    for- 
warder, 22. 
More  part,  the,  for  the  greater  part, 

23. 
More  pathetic,  preferable  to  pathet- 

icker,  22. 
MoRLEY,  John,  64,  83,  140. 
Morning  meal,  tlie,  164. 
Morris,  Richard,  71. 
Morris,  William,  26,  88. 
Most,  pleonastic,  158. 
Mo.st  beautiful,  preferable  to  beau- 

tifullest,  22. 
Most  decidedly,  75. 
Most    delicate,    preferable   to   deli- 

catest,  22. 
Most  distant,  preferable  to  distant- 

est,  22. 
Most  generous,   preferable  to  gen- 

erousest,  22. 
Most  honest,  preferable  to   honest- 

est,  22. 
Most    indispensable,    preferable    to 

indispensablest,  22. 
Most  pious,  preferable  to  piousest, 

22. 
Most  unquestionable,  preferable   to 

unquestionablest,  22. 
Most  virtuous,  preferable  to  virtu- 

ousest,  22. 
Mote,  as  in  "  so  mote  it  be,"  27. 
Motion,  words  that  suggest,  in  de- 
scription, 271-275. 


Mouse,  plural  of,  3. 

Mouth,  Oral,  99. 

Movement  (in  Narration),  essential, 
281  ;  section  on,  285-289  :  may  be 
rapid  or  slow,  285  ;  should  be  con- 
stant, 285-288  ;  episodes  in  no\- 
els,  288 ;  movement  and  lack  of 
movement  in  well-kuowu  authors. 
288 ;  method  in,  289-299. 

Much  of  truth,  43. 

Mugwump,  32. 

Murmur,  112. 

Murmur,  Buzz,  3. 

JMurray's  "  New  English  Diction- 
ary," 343. 

Music,  the  appropriate  vehicle  for 
vague  emotion,  256. 

Musician,  99. 

Musicianly,  34. 

Mutton,  Sheep,  2,  99. 

Mutual,  defined,  40  ;  WTongly  used, 
45,  46. 

Mutually  reciprocal,  154. 


N. 

Namby-pamby,  4. 

Names,  proper,  foreign  fashions  in 
spelling,  31. 

Napoleon  I,  369,  370. 

Narration,  discriminated  from  other 
kinds  of  composition,  247  ;  chap- 
ter ou,  281-299  :  distinguished 
from  description,  281;  essentials 
of  good,  281  ;  unmixed,  281-283  ; 
with  description,  283  ;  exemplified 
in  sliort  stories,  284 ;  movement 
in,  285-289  ;  method  in  movement, 
289-299 ;  with  exposition,  324.  See 
Method  in  movement,  Movement. 

Narrative,  Narration,  distinguished, 
19. 

Nasty,  75. 

"Nation"  (the),  344. 

"National  Review"  (the),  240. 

National  use,  defined,  8;  how  de- 
termined, 11  ;  in  England  and 
iKmerica,  13-15;  Freeman's  doc- 
trine concerning,  the  true  one,  13. 

Native  element,  103. 

Natural,  9. 

Natural  order  of  words  in  sentences 
the  best,  207. 


420 


INDEX. 


Nature,  94. 

Naval,  Ship,  99. 

Navvy,  14. 

Nay,  9. 

Near  fuUire,  the,  77. 

'Neath,  35. 

Necropoli,  49. 

Nee,  16. 

Ne'er,  35. 

Negative  or  positive  assertion,  90. 

Negatives,  double,  70. 

Negligence,  distinguished  from  neg- 
lect, 39  ;  wrongly  used,  44. 

Neither,  misuse  of,  54. 

Neither,  nor,  (correspondents),  posi- 
tion of,  178. 

Neophyte,  12. 

Neuralgia,  99. 

Never  so  good,  6. 

New  formations  of  words,  33. 

New  words,  27-33. 

Newman,  Cardinal,  95,  133,  175, 
212,  220,  236,  243,  244,  273,  312, 
313,  327,  360,  394. 

Newman,  F.  W.,  165,  320. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  356,  364. 

Nez  retrousse,  30. 

Nice,  75. 

Nigh,  9. 

"  Nineteenth  Century  "  (the),  46,  57, 
67,  106,  127,  180,  182,  209,  210, 
399. 

"Niobeof  Nations,"  169. 

Noel,  Roden,  111. 

Nominalism,  94. 

Nominative  case,  for  objective,  50. 

Norman  Conquest,  influence  of,  upon 
English  language,  100. 

Norman-French,  words  from,  com- 
pared with  words  from  Anglo- 
Saxon,  96,  101. 

NoRRis,  W.  E.,  44. 

"North  American  Review"  (the), 
166,  368. 

Not  a  whit,  5. 

Not  only,  but  also,  position  of,  178. 

Note  of,  a,  77. 

"  Notes  and  (Queries,"  26. 

Notwithstanding,  148. 

Nouns,  errors  in  use  of  foreign,  49 ; 
collective,  57. 

Novelties  in  language,  27. 

Now,  148. 

Nowadays,  23. 


Null  and  void,  156. 

Number  of  words,  145-176:  con- 
ciseness relative,  145;  extremes 
to  be  avoided,  146;  clearness  in, 
146-149;  force  in,  150-174;  ease 
in,  175-176.  See  Clearness,  Ease, 
Force. 

o. 

0',  for  of,  35. 

Oaric,  34. 

(.)bjective,  9. 

Objective  case,  for  nominative,  50. 

( )bjectively,  93. 

Objects  of  interest,  77. 

Obscure  demonstrative  adjectives,  86. 

Obscure  pronouns,  84. 

Obscurity,  caused  by  omissions,  146- 
148 ;  by  unnecessary  words,  149  ; 
by  position  of  pronouns,  177;  by 
position  of  correspondents,  178; 
by  position  of  subordinate  ex- 
pressions, 179-182.    See  Clearness. 

Observance,  distinguished  from  ob- 
servation, 39  ;  wrongly  used,  46. 

Obsolete  words,  not  obsolete  for  all 
purposes,  9  ;  that  are  barbarisms, 
25-27. 

O'er,  35. 

Of,  wrongly  used,  68. 

Off  of,  20. 

Official,  <  )fficious,  distinguished,  39. 

Oil,  to  strike,  13. 

Old  put,  11. 

( )ld-fashioned  words,  use  and  misuse 
of,  26,  36. 

Oliphant,  Mrs.,  29,  51,  53,  55,  64, 
67,  124,  143,  178,  180,  181,183. 

Oliphant,  T.  L.  Kington,  3,  33. 

Omelette,  27. 

Omission,  of  words  necessary  to  con- 
struction, 70 ;  of  words  at  end  of 
sentence,  72;  of  words  necessary 
to  clearness,  146-148 ;  of  necessary 
words  excusable  in  verse,  148. 

On,  wrongly  used,  69. 

On  it,  repetition  of,  135. 

On  the  go,  17. 

On  the  one  hand,  on  the  other  hand, 
148  ;  position  of,  178. 

On  tick,  17. 

One,  repetition  of,  135, 

Open  up,  20. 


INDEX. 


421 


Opinion,  matters  of,  distinguished 
from  matters  of  fact,  334. 

Optional,  as  noun,  12. 

Or,  for  nor,  23. 

Oral,  Mouth,  99. 

Oral,  Verbal,  distinguished,  19. 

Orator  not  persuasive  when  thinking 
of  his  style,  398. 

Oratory,  fire  in,  tells  for  more  than 
grammatical  correctness,  48. 

Order,  the  usual,  not  always  the 
best,  185 ;  the  natural,  the  best, 
207  ;  often  equivalent  to  explana- 
tion, 314 ;  of  arguments  from 
antecedent  probability,  example, 
sign,  383.     See  Arrangement. 

Original  aggressor,  1 54. 

Orr,  Mrs.  Sutherland,  78. 

Orthography,  bad,  false,  3. 

OssiAN,  169. 

Otherwhere,  26. 

Ought,  94. 

OuiDA,  76. 

Oval,  Egg,  99. 

Ovation,  102. 

Overworked  words,  75-77. 

Own  autobiography,  154. 

Ox,  plural  form  of',  3. 


P. 

Page,  David,  379. 

Pains  and  penalties,  156. 

Painting,  language  compared  with, 
249  ;  addresses  the  eye  only,  250  ; 
limitations  of,  250. 

Palgrave,  F.  T.,  240. 

"Pall  Mall  Budget"  (the),  181. 

"PaU  Mall  Gazette"  (the),  155. 

Pan  out,  to,  12. 

Pauic,  27. 

Pants,  for  pantaloons  (trousers),  35. 

Par,  above,  12. 

Par,  for  paragraph,  35. 

Paragraphs,  230-238  :  meaning  an<l 
value  of,  230;  relation  to  sen- 
tences, 231  ;  clearness  in,  231 ; 
force  in,  233 ;  ease  in,  234  ;  unity 
in,  236-238. 

Paraphrases,  113,  162-164. 

Pard,  for  partner,  35. 

Parenthetic  expressions,  position  of, 
202. 


Pari  passu,  16. 

Parlor,  or  drawing-room,  14. 

Part  and  parcel,  156. 

Partake  of  the  morning  repast,  103. 

Partially,  Partly,  distinguished,  19. 

Participate  in  round  dances,  103. 

Participles,  dangling,  213. 

Particle  at  end  of  sentence,  199-201. 

Particles,  connective.  See  ConneC' 
lives. 

Particles,  redundant,  20. 

Party,  for  person,  26. 

Passager,  23. 

Passenger,  23. 

Passing  away,  for  dying,  109. 

Pastor,  Shepherd,  99. 

Pastoral,  99. 

Pater,  Walter,  52,  64,  69,  90, 
159,  200,  204. 

Pathetic  fallacy,  the,  257-262. 

Patheticker,  for  more  pathetic,  22. 

Patrons  of  husbaudrv,  164. 

Payne,  E.  J.,  170. 

Ped,  for  pedestrian,  35. 

Pedantry,  to  be  avoided,  7. 

Pell-meU,  4,  5,  23. 

Penult,  34. 

Perad  venture,  10. 

Perfectly  lovely,  75. 

Perfectly  maddening,  75. 

"  Perfectly-endowed  man,"  244,  245. 

Periodic  sentences,  defined,  220; 
compared  with  loose,  220-226 ; 
tendency  of  inflected  languages 
to,  220;  De  Quincey's  argument 
against,  223. 

Periphrasis,  164. 

Perks,  for  perquisites,  35. 

Perorations,  persuasion  in,  388, 
395. 

Personal  essays  not  exposition,  301. 

Personification,  defined,  1 28 ;  use 
of,  128;  dangers  in,  129;  of  ab- 
stractions, 130. 

Perspiration,  101. 

Persuasion,  386-399 :  a  useful  ad- 
junct to  argument,  386  ;  addressed 
to  tlie  feelings,  386,  394  ;  Matthew 
Arnold's  definition  of,  387  :  in  ex- 
ordiums and  perorations,  388 ; 
closely  cduihined  with  argument, 
391  ;  "principles  of,  394-399  :  con- 
creteness,  395 ;  reserved  force, 
395 ;  climax,   395 ;   variety,   396  ; 


422 


INDEX. 


adaptation,  397  ;  simplicity,  397 ; 
sincerity,  398. 

Peterborough,  Bianop  of,  193. 

Petitio  principii,  344. 

Pfleiderer,  Otto,  326. 

Phelps,  Austin,  222,  310,  319,  323, 
324. 

Phenomena,  for  phenomenon,  49. 

Phiz,  for  phy.siognomy,  34. 

Phone,  for  telephone,  35. 

Photo,  for  photograph,  3.5. 

Phrase,  an  effective,  in  description, 
266. 

Phrases,  improprieties  in,  47. 

Piano,  27. 

Pick  of  them,  104. 

"  Picturesque  differences "  of  lan- 
guage, 1.3,  14. 

Piece,  a,  misused,  40. 

Piousest,  for  most  pious,  22. 

Pitcher,  or  jug,  15. 

Pitiable,  Pitiful,  distinguished,  19. 

Pitt,  William,  270. 

Pity's  sake,  for,  50. 

Plaisance  (pleasance),  9. 

.Plato,  330. 

Plea,  Argument,  distinguished,  40. 

Plead,  Argue,  distinguished,  40. 

Please,  idiomatic  use  of,  6. 

Plenipo,  for  plenipotentiary,  34. 

Pleonasm,  157-161. 

Pleonastic  adjectives,  160. 

Pleonastic  and,  159. 

Plume,  Feather,  99. 

Plunder,  for  baggage,  17. 

Plural  number  wrongly  used  for 
singular,  54. 

Plural  subject  with  singular  verb,  55. 

Plural  verb,  with  singular  subject, 
55 ;  with  subject  singular  in  form 
but  plural  in  sense,  56 ;  with  col- 
lective nouns,  57. 

PoE,  Edgar  Allax,  15,  284. 

Poetry,  words  obsolete  for  prose  in 
present  use  for,  9  ;  abbreviations 
allowal)le  in,  35  ;  requires  orna- 
ment, 37  ;  omissions  excusable  in, 
148;  abounds  in  single  descriptive 
words,  269. 

Point,  arguing  beside  the,  344. 

Point  of  view,  one,  in  sentences, 
212;  in  narration,  290-294;  easy 
to  keep  in  biography,  295  ;  diffi- 
cult to  keep  in  history,  295. 


Political  slang,  32. 

Politics,  99. 

Polynesian,  word  from  the,  27. 

PONSONBY,  W.  H.,  53. 

Pooh, 112 

Pope,  Alexander,  36,  141,  143 
189,  226,  259,271. 

Popular  with  the  people,  154. 

Populist,  32. 

Portage,  or  carry,  15. 

Portuguese,  word  from  the,  27. 

Positive  assertion,  negative  or,  90. 

Possessive  case,  necessary  to  distin- 
guish between  genitive  case  and, 
49  ;  Marsh's  rule  with  exceptions, 
50. 

Post,  or  mail,  14. 

Post  hoc,  propter  hoc,  351. 

Poverty  of  language,  school  composi- 
tions s\iffer  from,  74 ;  tlie  source 
of  much  slang,  75. 

Poz,  for  positive,  34. 

Practicableness,  to  be  avoided,  21. 

Prairie,  Meadow,  3. 

Precious,  76. 

Precision,  the  rule  of,  18;  clearness 
distinguished  from,  92 ;  must 
sometimes  be  sacrificed  to  clear- 
ness, 93 ;  necessary  in  exposition, 
310. 

Predicate,  for  predict,  42,  47 ;  a 
technical  term,  93. 

Prelim,  for  preliminary  examination, 
35. 

Premature,  defined,  40. 

Premisses,  defined,  341 ;  different 
ways  of  stating,  342. 

Premium,  99. 

Preponderance  of  probability,  359 

Preposition,  the  wrong,  68. 

PuEsooTT,  \Villiam  H.,  70. 

Present  use,  8-11  .  how  determined, 
8  ;  no  e.\act  boundaries  of,  8  ;  Dr. 
Campbell's  idea  of,  8 ;  not  the 
same  in  all  kinds  of  writing,  9-11- 

Presumption,  tiie,  332-333,  383. 

Preventative,  for  preventive,  33. 

Prex,  for  president,  35. 

Prig,  10. 

Proliability,  preponderance  of,  359. 

Probability,  antecedent.  See  Ante- 
cedent  prohrihi/it//. 

Proceed  to  residence,  103. 

Process  of  erection,  in,  103. 


INDEX. 


423 


Proctor,  34. 

Proditory,  22. 

Product,"^  Production,  distinguished, 
19. 

Prof,  for  professor,  35. 

Progress,  to,  33. 

Prolixity,  167-168,323. 

Promiueiit  and  leading,  156. 

Pronounced,  for  marked,  43. 

Pronouns,  em]jliatic,  in  -self  distin- 
guished from  reflexive,  52  ;  with- 
out grammatical  antecedent,  52 ; 
misuse  of  either,  neither,  the 
former,  tlie  latter,  54;  singular 
or  plural,  54;  obscure  or  equivo- 
cal, 84  ;  clioice  of  relative,  136  ; 
position  of,  to  insure  clearness,  177. 

Pronunciation,  standard  of,  12. 

Proof  (in  Argument),  defined,  328  ; 
direct  and  indirect,  329;  burden 
of,  331-333  ;  before  or  after  prop- 
osition, 381. 

Proper  names,  foreign  fashions  in 
spelling,  31-32. 

Proportion,  laws  of,  to  be  observed, 
240,  319. 

Proposal,  proposition,  distinguished 
from  purpose,  19. 

Propose,  Purpose,  distinguished, 
19. 

Proposition  (in  Argument),  defined, 
328 ;  a  word  will  not  serve  as  a, 
328  ;  importance  of  having  in 
mind  a  distinct,  329 ;  before  or 
after  proof,  381 ;  statement  of, 
should  be  clear  and  brief,  382. 

Prose,  words  in  present  use  for 
poetry  obsolete  for,  9 ,  ablirevia- 
tions  tliat  are  not  allowable  in, 
35;  omissions  more  excusable  in 
poetry  than  in,  148;  has  a  com- 
pactness and  a  rapidity  of  its 
own,  149. 

Proven,  12. 

Proverbs,  value  of,  170. 

Provincialisms,    12;    the    English- 

.    man's  view  of,  13. 

Proxy,  34. 

Prudence  for  young  writers  the  bet- 
ter part  of  valor,  35. 

Pulpit  English,  103,  319,  322,  323- 
324,  383. 

Punch,  23. 

"Punch."  29. 


Purity,  grammatical,  a  requisite  of 
good  writing,  1 ;  defined,  2. 

Purple,  Red,  3. 

Purpose,  distinguished  from  pro- 
posal, proposition,  19. 

Puseyite,  32. 

Q. 

Quad,  for  quadrangle,  35. 

Quaker,  33. 

"  Quarterly  Review  "  (the),  72,  126, 

154. 
Queen  Caroline,  case  of,  396. 
Queer  old  put,  10. 
Question,  begging  the,  344. 
Question-begging  words,  345. 
QuiNTiLiAN,  36,  82,   140,  161,    168, 

175,  246. 
Quite,  defined,  40;  wrongly  used,  46. 
Quixotic,  33. 
Quiz,  to,  33. 
Quorum,  99. 

Qui)tation,  value  of,  170. 
Quoth,  9. 

R. 

Rabelais,  Franqois,  245. 

Radical,  33,  94. 

Rag,  for  steal,  12. 

Rag  at,  for  rail  at,  12. 

Rags  and  tatters,  156. 

Raided,  34. 

Railroad,  or  railway,  14. 

Raise,  preferable  to  elevate,  21. 

Raise  up,  20. 

Rampire,  for  rampart,  9. 

Ranch,  27. 

Rara  a  vis,  16. 

Rare,  or  underdone,  14. 

Rathe,  3. 

Rather,  had,  5 ;  would,  5. 

Rather  late,  3. 

Ratio,  99. 

Rattle,  112. 

Read,  preferable  to  peruse,  21, 

Reade,   Charles,   53,   54,  61,  67, 

147,  285,  287,  292. 
Realism,  94. 
Realist,  33. 
Reason,  9,  94. 
Reasoning,  scientific  and  unscientific, 

353. 


424 


INDEX. 


Recalled  back,  1 54. 

Recajiier,  Madame,  270. 

Receipt,  Recipe,  distinguished,  19. 

Recipient  of  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments, 103. 

Reckon,  to,  12. 

Recline  upon  the  greensward,  103. 

Reconnoitre,  23. 

Red,  Purple,  3. 

Reductio  ad  absiu-dinn,  329-331. 

Eledundancy,  154-168:  tautology, 
154-157;  pleonasm,  157-161 ;  ver- 
bosity, 162-168. 

Reel,  or  spool,  15. 

Refer,  Mention,  Allude,  distin- 
guished, 39. 

Refereed,  34. 

Reflexive  pronouns,.52. 

Refutation  (in  Argument),  384-385. 

Reid,  Captain  Mayne,  288. 

Reid,  Thomas,  365. 

Relative,  Relation,  distinguished,  19. 

Religion,  99. 

Remorse,  101. 

Renascence,  for  renaissance,  36. 

Rep,  for  reputation,  34. 

Repair  to  tlie  festive  board,  103. 

Repeated  from,  116. 

Eepetition,  skilful,  150-153  ;  unskil- 
ful, 153  ;  judicious  use  of,  in  expo- 
sition, 312. 

Replete  ■with  interest,  77. 

Reportorial,  33. 

Republican,  94. 

Beputable  use,  defined,  8  ;  how  de- 
termined, 16;  expressions  not  in, 
17. 

Resemblance  in  sense  misleads,  39. 

Resemblance  in  sound  misleads,  37. 

Reserved  force,  171-174;  in  per- 
suasion, 395. 

Resume,  for  sum  up,  43. 

Resurrection,  101. 

Retiracy,  34. 

Retire  to  downy  couch,  103. 

Rhetoric,  foundations  of,  rest  upon 
grammar,  1 ;  a  writer  on,  not  a 
lawgiver,  73. 

Rhetorical  excellence  (as  applied 
to  Choice  of  Words),  74-144; 
value  of  an  ample  vocabulary,  74 ; 
overworked  words,  75 ;  how  to 
enrich  one's  vocabulary,  78  ;  how 
to  determine  the  choice  of  words. 


81  ;  clearness,  81-111  ;  force,  111- 
132 ;  ease,  132-144.  (As  applied 
to  Number  of  Words),  145-176: 
conciseness  relative,  145 ;  both 
diffuseness  and  excessive  concise- 
ness to  be  avoided,  146 ;  clearness, 
146-149;  force,  150-174;  ease, 
175-176.  (As  applied  to  Arrange- 
ment), 177-246  :  clearness,  177- 
183;  force,  184-198;  ease,  198- 
208;  unity,  208-216;  kinds  of 
sentences,  216-230;  paragraphs, 
230-238 ;  whole  compositions,  239- 
246. 

Richard  III.,  364. 

Richardson,  Samuel,  59,  60,  61, 
62,  204,  245,  285,  298,  358. 

Ride'e,  30. 

Right,  for  very,  12;  ambiguous  in 
meaning,  94. 

Right  away,  right  off,  for  immedi- 
ately, 12. 

Right'here,  12. 

Rights,  to,  for  presently,  12. 

Road-agents,  for  highwav  robbers, 
109. 

Roar,  112. 

Robertson,  William,  44. 

Robinson,  Louis,  362. 

Robustious,  22. 

Rod,  to  pass  under  the,  12. 

Rogers,  James  E.  Thouold,  399. 

Role,  29. 

Round,  preferable  to  around,  21. 

RoYCE,  Josiah,  274. 

Ruination,  33. 

Rule  of  courtesy,  58,  60-62 

Rule  of  euphony,  21. 

Rule  of  precision,  18. 

Rule  of  simplicity,  20. 

Rules  and  regulations,  156. 

Run,  for  manage,  17. 

RusKiN,  John,  22,  54,  70,  93,  180, 
227,  230,  233,  241,  245,  257-261, 
269,  272. 

Russell,  T.  Baron,  69. 

Russell,  W.  Clark,  57. 


Safe  and  sound,  156. 
Said,  as  "  the  said  man,"  12. 
Saleswoman,  15. 


INDEX. 


425 


Saloon,  sample-room,  for  bar-room, 
109. 

Samuels,  Edward  A.,  253, 

Sanatory,  Sanitary,  19. 

Sang,  3. 

Sanguine,  Bloody,  99. 

Sanitary,  Sanatory,  19. 

"Saturday  Review"  (the), 6,  29,  77, 
182. 

Saturnalia,  wrongly  used.  49. 

Savage,  Richakd,  165. 

Save  (except),  9. 

Savoirfaire,  30. 

Says  he,  says  I,  159. 

Scarce,  for  scarcely,  9. 

Scarcity,  preferable  to  scarceness,  21. 

Scarlett.     See  Ahinger. 

Schiller,  Friedrich,  277. 

Schliemann,  Heinrich,  338. 

Schooner,  15. 

"  Science,"  274. 

Science,  origin  of  word,  99 ;  use  of 
antecedent  probability  by,  356. 
See  Scientijic  description. 

Scientific  and  unscientific  reasoning, 
353. 

Scientific  description,  251-253  : 
aim  and  method  of,  251 ;  has 
much  in  common  with  exposi- 
tion, 253  ;  distinguished  from  ex- 
position, 303. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  38,  46,  51,  53, 
54,  55,  59,  63,  65,  68,  70,  71,  89, 
97,  119,  123,  135,  138,  139,  140, 
155,  158,  165,  166,  179,  181,  182, 
188,  196,  202,  210,  213,  215,  245, 
278,  299,  374. 

Scrape  acquaintance,  7. 

Sculpture,  language  compared  with, 
249  ;  limitations  of,  250. 

Sea  of  faces,  102. 

Secessionist,  32. 

Seeley,  John  Robert,  158. 

Seems  to  me,  it,  77. 

Selection,  value  of,  in  suggestive 
style,  169. 

-self,  pronouns  in,  52. 

Senancolr,  255. 

Sense,  words  that  resemble  each 
other  in,  often  confusetl,  39  ;  sound 
that  suggests,  112;  use  of  two 
words  in  tlie  same,  an  offence 
against  ease,  137  ;  not  to  be  sacri- 
ficed to  sound,  143. 


Sense,  good.     See  Good  sense. 

Senses,  use  of  one  word  in  two,  an 
offence  against  ease,  137. 

Sensible,  Sensitive,  distinguished,  39. 

Sensuous,  9. 

Sentence,  weak  beginning  of,  187  ; 
weak  ending  of,  187;  particle  at 
end  of,  199-201 ;  should  be  a  unit 
both  in  substance  and  in  expres- 
sion, 208;  De  Quincey  on  the 
German,  218;  relation  of  para- 
graph to,  23 1  ;  function  of  last,  in 
a  paragraph,  234. 

Sentences,  kinds  of,  216-230:  short 
or  long,  216-220;  periodic  or 
loose,  220-226 ;  balanced,  226-227  ; 
each  kind  has  its  use,  228-230. 

Seraph,  plural  |ornis  of,  49. 

Severe,  Condign,  distinguished,  39. 

Sewage,  Sewerage,  distinguished,  19. 

SlIAFTESIiUKY,     ThIRD     EaRL,     183, 

202. 

Shairp,  Principal,  53. 

Shaker,  33. 

Shakspere,  William,  5,  7,  8,  30, 
41,  48,  49,  50,  62,  75,  80,  101,  102, 
107,  111,  115,  117,  118,  119,  128, 
141,  148,  1.53,  172,  186,  234,  245, 
255,  258,  269,  331,  377. 

Shaky,  1 7. 

Shalland  will,  58-64  :  distinction  be- 
tween simple  futurity  and  volition 
on  the  part  of  the  speaker,  58 ; 
tlie  rule  of  courtesy,  58,  60-62; 
interrogative  forms  of,  59 ;  use  in 
sentences  having  a  principal  and  a 
dependent  clause,  60;  scriptural 
shall,  61;  shall  in  promises,  62; 
will  in  official  letters  of  direction, 
62  ;  examples  of  incorrect  use  of 
will,  63. 

Sharp,  Richard,  201. 

Shaw,  Chief  Justice,  341. 

Shaw,  Robert  Gould,  173. 

Shawl,  27. 

Shay,  for  chaise,  12. 

Sheep,  Mutton.  3,  99. 

Siiellev,  Percy  Bysshe,  66,  111, 
122,  129,  196,  197,  274. 

Shenstone,  William,  259. 

Shepherd,  I'astor,  99. 

Sherbet,  27. 

Sherry,  27. 

Sherry  cobbler,  14. 


426 


INDEX. 


Shew,  12. 

Shilly-shally,  4. 

Ship,  Naval,  99. 

Shirk,  11. 

Sboon.  for  shoes,  9. 

Shop,  or  ;i,iore,  14. 

Shopmjiu,  or  clerk,  15. 

Short  seniences  compared  with  long, 
216-220. 

Short  stories,  good  examples  of, 
284-285. 

Short-hairs,  32. 

Should,  follows  same  rules  as  shall,  63; 
sometimes  used  in  its  original  sense 
of  ought,  63.     See  Shall  and  ivill. 

Shrub,  27. 

Shunt,  33. 

Shunt,  or  switch,  15., 

Sidewalk,  15. 

Siesta,  27. 

Sight,  94. 

Sign,  argument  from,  defined,  354 ; 
explained,  373 ,  arguments  vary  in 
force,  374 ,  fallacious  arguments 
from,  375;  argument  from,  op- 
posed by  that  from  antecedent 
probability,  376 ;  comliined  with 
that  from  antecedent  ])robability 
and  that  from  example,  376  ;  place 
in  arrangement  of  proof,  383. 

Significance,  Signification,  distin- 
guished, 39. 

Silence,  testimony  of,  338. 

Silver's  death,  50. 

Silverite,  32. 

Similes,  1 1 7-128 :  distinguished  from 
metaphors,  118;  reason  for  fre- 
quent superiority  of  metaphors  to, 
118;  when  preferable  to  met- 
aphors, 120;  position  of,  when 
combined  with  metaphors,  122; 
position  of,  with  relation  to  literal 
assertions,  196. 

Simplicity,  tlie  rule  of,  20 ;  in  per- 
suasion, 3<J7. 

Sincerity,  in  persuasion,  398. 

Singular  number  wrongly  used  for 
plural,  54. 

Singular  subject  with  plural  verb,  55. 

Singular  verb,  with  plural  subject, 
55 ;  with  subject  plural  in  form 
but  singular  in  sense,  56;  with 
collective  nouns,  57. 

Siren,  99. 


Sitten,  23. 

Size  up,  to,  17. 

Skatorial,  34. 

Skedaddle,  to,  17. 

Skilful  repetition,  150. 

Slang,  short  life  of,  32 ;  poverty  of 
language  the  source  of  much,  75 ; 
modern  use  of,  vulgar,  75. 

Sleeper,  for  sleeping-car,  17. 

Sleigh,  14. 

Slice,  for  fire-shovel,  12. 

Sloop,  27. 

Slur  over,  20. 

Smart,  12. 

Smith,  Adam,  370. 

Smith,  Alexander,  196. 

Smith,  Goldwin,  135,  179, 

Smith,  Sydney,  391-394. 

Smoke,  smoking,  Addison's  use  of, 
10,  11. 

Snob,  33. 

So,  pleonastic,  158. 

Socialist,  32. 

Society,  environment,  and  tendency, 
for  the  world,  the  fiesh,  and  the 
devil,  109. 

Socrates,  330. 

Sofa,  27. 

Soften  off,  20. 

Soft-shell,  32. 

Solecisms,  violations  of  good  use, 
25 ;  section  on,  48-72 .  defined, 
48 ;  errors  in  use  of  foreign  nouns, 
49 ;  the  possessive  case,  49  ;  nomi- 
native or  objective  case,  50  ;  than 
whom,  51;  pronouns  in  -self,  52, 
pronoun  without  gramm.atical 
antecedent,  52  ;  misuse  of  either, 
neitlier,  the  former,  tlie  latter,  54 , 
can  for  may,  58 ;  shall  and  will, 
58-64 ;  incorrect  tenses,  64 ;  in- 
dicative or  subjunctive  mood,  66 , 
adverb  or  adjective,  67 ;  wrong 
preposition,  68 ;  adverb  with  in- 
finitive, 69;  double  negatives,  70; 
omissions,  70. 

SONNENSCIIEIN,  PeOFESSOR,  66. 

Sooners,  12. 

Sophomore,  14. 

Soiihriquet,  28. 

Sound,  words  that  resemble  each 
other  in,  often  confused,  37  ;  that 
suggests  sense,  112;  sense  not  to 
be  sacrificed  to,  143. 


INDEX, 


427 


So0THET,  Robert,  38,  44,  372. 

Spake,  10. 

Span,  spick  and,  5. 

Spanish,  words  from  the,  27 

Spec,  for  speculation,  35. 

Special,  as  noun,  12. 

Speciality,  Specialty,  distinguished, 
19. 

Specific  terms,  compared  with  gen- 
eral, 105-111-  instances  of  supe- 
rior value  of,  106-108,  not  apt  to 
be  bookish,  108. 

"Spectator"  (the),  [XVIIIth  Cen- 
tury] 10,  34,  44,  49,  68,  78,  85, 136, 
154,  167,  316,  338. 

"  Spectator  "  (the),  [XlXth  Century] 
22,  34,  45,  51,  52,  53,  56,  89,  90, 135, 
147,  159,  180,  187,  202,  209,  213, 
301. 

Speculation,  115. 

Speculatist,  33. 

Speech,  figures  of.  See  Metaphors, 
Similes,  Tropes. 

Spelling,  foreign  fashions  in,  31. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  69,  96,  119, 
121,  192,  196,  203,  204,  207.  225, 
244,  326,  400. 

Spencer,  Third  Earl,  64. 

Spenser,  Edmund,  141. 

Spick  and  span,  5. 

Spiritualism,  9. 

Splash,  112. 

Splendid,  75. 

Sponsor,  12. 

Spool,  or  reel,  bobbin,  15. 

Squash,  or  vegetable  marrow,  15. 

Squaw,  14,  27. 

"  Squinting"  con.struction,  181. 

Stampede,  15,  27. 

Stang,  3. 

St.\nley,  Henry  M.,  47. 

State,  94. 

State-honse,  14. 

States,  for  I'nited  States,  12. 

Stay,  Stop,  distinguished,  19. 

Steal,  as  noun,  33. 

Steam,  to,  33. 

Steele,  Rich.vrd,  72,  85,  133,  136. 

Stephen,  Sir  J.\mes  Fitz.j.\mes, 
68,  94,  332,  336,345,  362.  386.  399. 

Stephen,  Leslie,  130,  138,  345. 

SxEKNE,  Laurence,  245. 

Stevenson,  I^obert  Louis,  78,  81, 
200,  285,  298,  344. 


Stewart,  Dugald,  119. 

Stockton,  Frank  R.,  285 

Stoke-hole,  or  fire-room    15. 

Stop,  Stay,  distinguishea,  19. 

Store,  or  shop,  14. 

Stories,  short,   good    examnles    oi 
284-285. 

Stowe,  Harriet  Beecheb,  39D. 

Strange,  76. 

Strata,  for  stratum,  49. 

Street-car,  or  train,  15. 

Strike  a  bonanza,  13. 

Strike  oil,  13. 

Struggle  for  existence,  77. 

Stunning,  75. 

Sturges,  Jonathan,  284.  -^ 

Style,  idioms  give  life  to,  5  ;  diffuse, 
145  ;  Homeric,  160 ,  of  old  English 
ballad,  160;  suggestive,  168-171; 
exhaustive,  170;  artificial,  207; 
flowing,  234 ;  decnusu,  235 ;  spe- 
cific, 244,  245;  bookish,  397;  de- 
clamatory, 397. 

Subjective,  9. 

Subjectively,  93. 

Suhject-niatter,  23. 

Subjunctive  mood,  distinguished 
from  the  indicative,  66  ,  in  past 
tense  has  a  distinct  form  only  in 
the  verb  be,  66  ;  indicative  wrongly 
used  for,  67 

Suborilinate  expressions,  position  of, 
179. 

Suffrage,  to,  26. 

Suffraging,  34. 

Suggestive  description.  See  Artistic 
dexcri/itio7i. 

Suggestive  style,  168-171:  defined, 
1 69 ,  success  of,  depends  on  skil- 
ful selection  of  particulars,  169; 
examples  of,  170-171. 

Suicided,  34. 

Suicidism,  34. 

Sum  and  substance,  156. 

Si'mner.  Charles,  23. 

"Sun  "  (the),  368. 

Supernatural,  9. 

Supplement,  to,  33. 

Sujjreme,  for  la.st,  43,  44. 

Survival  of  the  fittest,  77. 

Suspenders,  or  braces,  14. 

Suspicion,  as  verb,  2G. 

Sustained  metaphors,  124-126. 

Swagger,  as  adjective,  17. 


428 


INDEX. 


Swearing,   refuge   from  a   limited 

vocabulary,  77. 
Sweat,  101. ' 
Swell,  as  adjective,  17. 
Swift,  Jonathan,    11,  23,  25,   26, 

34,  47,  53,  132,  167,  245,  331,  375. 
Swinburne,  Algernon  Charles, 

26,  76,  136. 
Swingeing,  for  huge,  17. 
Switch,  or  shunt,  15. 
Syllogism,    defined,   342 ;    different 

ways    of  stating,   342 ;   abridged, 

342-343. 
Sylvan  forest,  154. 
Sylvester,  Joshca,  141. 
Stmonds,  John  Addington,  76, 273. 
Synecdoche,  116-117. 
Syntax.     See  Grammatical  si/ntax. 
Synthetic  method  in  exposition,  314. 
Systemize,  to,  34. 


Taboo,  27. 

Taixe,  Henri,  306,  324. 

Take  stock  in,  1 2. 

Talented,  11,33. 

Tap,  or  faucet,  1 5. 

Tapis,  on  the,  16. 

Taste.     See  Good  taste. 

Tasty,  for  tasteful,  33. 

Tat,  tit  for,  5. 

"Tatler"  (the),  34,  117. 

Tautology,  154-157. 

Taylor,  Zachary,  message  to  Con- 
gress, 47. 

Team,  defined,  41 ;  wrongly  used,  45. 

Technique,  77. 

Tediousness,  fatal,  150. 

Telegram,  23. 

Telephone,  99. 

Tell,  preferable  to  relate,  21. 

Telling  characteristics,  262-266. 

Temperance,  94. 

Temple,  Sir  William,  209,  372, 

Tendency,  77. 

Tennis,  9. 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  9,  101,  107, 
108,  118,  123,  167,  170,  186,  264, 
265,  266,  269. 

Tense,  incorrect,  64-65:  of  finite 
verb,  6+ ;  of  infinitive,  65  ;  pres- 
ent, in  general  propositions,  65. 


Terminus,  End,  3. 

Terms.     See  General  terms,  Specific 

terms. 
Terse,  Forcible,  distinguished,  41. 
Test  of  good  English,  true,  7. 
Testimony,  evidence  derived  from, 

335 ;  of  experts,  336 ;    unwilling, 

337  ;  undesigned,  337  ;  of  silence, 

338  ;  concurrent,  339 ;  direct  and 
circumstantial  evidence,  339. 

Tests  of  good  English,  false,  2. 

Thackeray,  William  Makb- 
PEACE,  4, 10,  22,  44,  45,  54,  55,  67, 
103,  133,  139,  167,  173,  186,  195, 
245,  262,  271,  289,  299. 

Than  who,  51. 

Than  whom,  51. 

That,  misuse  of  how  for,  90  ;  which 
and,  choice  between,  a  question 
of  euphony,  136. 

Theism,  27. 

Thence,  preferable  to  from  thence, 
20. 

Theorist,  English  of  a,  2. 

Therefore,  148. 

This  means,  objected  to  by  Landoi; 
23. 

Thomson,  James,  164. 

Thoreau,  Henry  D.,  140. 

Though,  148. 

Thrasymachus,  330. 

Tlirough,  wrongly  used,  69. 

Through,  to  be,  for  to  finish,  12. 

Throw  light  on,  not  unravel,  ob- 
scurities, 116. 

TlIUCYDIDES,  338. 

Thud,  112. 

Ticket-agent,  or  booking-clerk,  15. 

Time,  the  court  which  decides  good 
use,  8. 

"  Times  "  (the),  23. 

'Tis,  10. 

Tit  for  tat,  5. 

To,  idiomatic  use  ^vith  infinitive  oi 
substantive  after  perfect  and  plu- 
perfect tenses  of  be,  6  ;  preferable 
to  unto,  21;  wrongly  used,  69; 
and  infinitive,  adverb  with,  69. 

To  and  fro,  5. 

To  let,  rather  than  to  be  let,  20. 

To  rights,  for  presently,  12. 

To  the  fore,  77. 

Toddy,  27. 

Tomahawk,  27. 


INDEX. 


429 


Tonsorial  artist,  102. 

Too,  pleonastic,  158. 

Tooth,  Dental,  99. 

Topsy-turvy,  4. 

Tory,  33. 

Toward,  towards,  21. 

Trace  out,  20. 

Tram,  or  street-car,  15. 

Tramp  (vagrant),  33. 

Transaction,  for  compromise,  43. 

Transcendental,  9. 

Transition,  ease  in,  234-236,  239. 

Transom  (transom-window),  14. 

Transpire,  correct  and  incorrect  use 
of,  41.       . 

Trapper,  14. 

Travestie,  29. 

Trench,  Archbishop,  26,  45,  140. 

Trend,  77. 

Trevelyan,  G.  0.,  48,  71,  84,  295. 

Trivial  expressions  in  serious  writ- 
ing, 140. 

Trollope,  Anthony,  43,  51,  55, 
57,  68,  82,  90,  126,  127,  133,  135, 
137,  139,  154,  157,  159,  185,  190, 
199,200,  285,  288,326. 

Trollope,  T.  Adolphus,  75. 

Tropes,  114-132:  defined,  114;  the 
very  stuff  of  human  language, 
114;  words  at  once  literal  and 
figurative,  115;  synecdoclie  and 
metonymy,  116  ;  similes  and  met- 
aphors, 117-128;  personification, 
128-130;  value  and  uses  of,  131. 
See  Metaphors,  Similes. 

Trottoir,  16. 

Truck,  for  garden  produce,  12. 

Truer,  preferable  to  more  true,  21. 

Trunk,  or  box,  14. 

Trv,  as  noun,  33. 

Tub,  for  bathe,  17. 

Twain,  9. 

Twain,  Mark,  105,  166,272. 

'Twixt,  35. 

Tyndall,  John-,  308. 

Typo,  for  typographer,  35. 


u. 

Ugly,  for  ill-tempered,  17. 
Umbrageous  shade,  154. 
Un  lion  ])nrti\  30. 
Unbeknown,  for  unknown,  26. 


Underdone,  or  rare,  14. 

Undersigned,  the,  for  1,  103. 

Understanding,  9. 

Undesigned  testimony,  337. 

Unionist,  32. 

"  United  States  English,"  40. 

Unity,  in  sentences,  208-216:  mean- 
ing and  value  of,  208 ;  does  not 
depend  on  length  or  complexity 
of  sentence,  208 ;  in  substance  of 
sentence,  208-212;  in  expression 
of  sentence,  212-216;  lack  of, 
caused  by  confusion  of  thought, 
216;  in  paragraphs,  236-238;  in 
whole  compositions,  239-243  ;  Car- 
dinal Newman's  method  of  secur- 
ing, 243  ;  with  variety,  244-246  ; 
the  kind  of,  which  a  young  writer 
should  seek,  246  ;  in  exposition, 
319-323  ;  lack  of,  in  sermons,  319, 
322  ;  the  first  requisite  of  an  argu- 
ment, 380. 

Unprecedentedly,  for  without  prece- 
dent, 22. 

Unquestionablest,  for  most  unques- 
tionable, 22. 

Unravel,  not  throw  light  on,  per- 
plexities, 116. 

Unrebukeclly,  for  without  rebuke, 
22. 

Unskilful  repetition,  153. 

Unto,  to  simpler  than,  21. 

Unwilling  testimony,  337. 

Unwipeupable,  34. 

Up  Salt  River,  32. 

Usage,  British  and  American,  IS- 
IS; divided,  17-24. 

Use  and  misuse  of  connectives,  86. 

Use,  good.     See  Good  use. 

Use,  national.     See  National  use. 

Use,  present.     See  Present  use. 

Use,  reputable.     See  Reputable  use. 

Useful  circumlocutions,  167. 

Usual  and  ordinary,  156. 

Usual  English  order  not  always  the 
best,  185. 

Utterly,  75. 


V. 


Values,  77. 


an. 


.34. 

Van  Bi'REN,  G.  M.,  190. 
Van  Helmont,  J.  B.,  2. 


430 


INDEX. 


Variety  with  unity,  244-246,  396- 
397. 

Varsity,  for  university,  35, 

Vastly,  75. 

Vegetable  marrow,  or  squash,  15. 

Verbal,  distiuguished  from  oral,  19  ; 
of  differeut  origin  from  word,  99. 

Verbal  tiuery,  102-105. 

iTerbosity,  162-168  :  paraphrases, 
162-164;  circumlocution,  164-167; 
prolixity,  167-168. 

Verdant  green,  154. 

Vermicelli,  27. 

Vertigo,  99. 

Very,  pleonastic,  158. 

Vest,  for  waistcoat,  12. 

Veteran  appropriator,  103. 

Veto,  99. 

Vindictive,  preferable  to  vindicative, 
21. 

Violation  of  grammatical  syntax, 
universal,  1,  48-49  ;  inexcusable  in 
a  writer,  48. 

Virtuous,  94. 

Virtuousest,  for  most  virtuous,  22. 
Visd-vis,  30. 

Vocabulary,  value  of  an  ample,  74  ; 
of  Shakspere,  of  Milton,  of  Italian 
opera,  of  business,  of  conversa- 
tion, 75 ;  swearing  the  refuge  from 
a  limited,  77;  how  to  enrich  one's, 
78-81. 

Vocation,  Avocation,  distinguished, 
39. 

Vulgarisms,  33,  41. 


w. 

Wage,  for  wages.  12. 
Wage-fund,  for  wages-fund,  12. 
Wallace,  A.  R,  318,  326. 
Walpole,  Horace,  270. 
Wampum,  27. 
Wander,  as  noun,  34. 
Ward,  A.  W.,  23. 
Ward,  Mrs.   Humphry,   89,   147, 

211,  238. 
Warxer,  Charles  Dudley,  344. 
Was,  for  were,  13,  67. 
Waves  balked  of  their  prey,  103. 
Ways  and  means,  156. 
We,  for  I,  103. 
Weak  beginnings  of  sentences,  187. 


Weak  endings  of  sentences,  187. 

Webster,  Daniel,  56,  132,  172. 
174,  194,  197,  212,  219,  227.  310, 
324,  327,  3.59,  366,  389,  395,  399. 

Webster,  John  D.,  case  of,  341. 

Webster's  "  International  Dictiou' 
ary,"  100. 

Weird,  76. 

Welldon,  J.  E.  C,  366. 

Well-posted,  for  well-informed.  17 

Wells,  Webster,  329. 

Wench,  10. 

Wend  one's  way,  103. 

Wendell,  Barrett,  198. 

Weyman,  Stanley  J.,  44, 45,  52,  7(/. 

What  for  a,  for  what  kind  of,  43. 

Whately,  Archbishop,  94,  105, 
112,  118,  123,  145,  191,  225,  33j. 
333,  338,  361,364,  371. 

Whence,  preferable  to  from  whence, 
20. 

Whether  or  no,  6. 

Whew,  112. 

Which,  and  that,  choice  between,  a 
question  of  euphony,  136 ;  with 
and,  construction  of,  138. 

Whig,  33. 

While,  preferable  to  whilst,  21 ;  mis- 
use of,  89-90 ;  repetition  of,  135 : 
a  useful  connective,  148. 

Whilom,  9. 

Whip  (a  Parliament  ofiBcer),  14. 

Whipple,  E.  P.,  398. 

Whip-poor-will,  112. 

Whir,  112. 

Whisper,  112. 

Whit,  not  a,  5. 

White  murder  case,  389. 

Whitefield,  George,  388. 

Whiz,  112. 

Who,  than,  51 ;  and  that,  choice  be 
tween,  a  question  of  euphony,  l3b. 

Whole,  the,  distinguished  from  ail. 
41  ;  wrongly  used,  46. 

"Whole  Compositions,  239-246 : 
clearness  and  force  in,  239 ;  ea.se 
in,  2.39;  unity  in,  239-246;  shouM 
have  variety,  244 ;  should  be  inter- 
esting, 246. 

Wholesome,  Healthy,  distinguished, 
38. 

Whom,  than,  51. 

Wigwam,  14,  27. 

Wild.  76. 


INDEX. 


431 


WiLKTS?.  Mary  E.,  264,  285. 

Will  and  shall.     See  Shall  and  ivill. 

Willy-uilly,  4. 

Wire,  for  telegram  or  telegraph,  17. 

With,  wrongly  used,  69. 

Withal,  9. 

With  f'ifficulty,  preferable  to  diffi- 
cultly, 22. 

Without   precedent,    preferable    to 
unprecedentedly,  22. 

Without  reljuke,  preferable  to  unre- 
bui'odly,  22. 

Woraauish,  Womanly,  distinguished, 
39. 

Wore,  Verbal,  99. 

Worainess,  fatal  in  persuasion,  395. 

Words,  fastidiousness  in  the  use  of, 
3 ;  m  present  use,  8 ;  long  dis- 
used sometimes  recalled  to  life, 
9 ;  in  present  use  in  poetry  but 
obsolete  in  prose,  9;  obsolete  for 
one  kind  of  prose  but  not  for 
another,  9  ;  not  yet  in  present  use, 
10;  in  national  use,  11 ;  in  British 
and  American  use,  13-15  ;  foreign, 
15-ib;  in  reputable  use,  16;  not 
inieputableuse,17;  uneuphouious, 
21 ;  obsolete,  25 ;  fashion  in,  26, 
36 ;  new.  27  ;  of  foreign  origin,  27  ; 
borrowed,  28-30;  of  low  origin,  32 ; 
new  formations  of,  33;  counsel  con- 
cerning choice  of,  35 ;  similar  in 
sound  or  in  sense,  37-42 ;  used  in 
a  foreign  sense,  43  ;  omission  of 
those,  wliich  are  necessary  to  con- 
struction, 70;  choice  of,  74-144: 
overworked,  75  ;  that  require  defi- 
nition, 94-96  ;  of  Anglo-Saxon  and 
of  latin  origin,  96-102 ;  "  lower 
classes "  cannot  perform  highest 
work,  97  ;  bookish,  108;  of  which 
the  sound  suggests  the  sense,  112  ; 
at  once  literal  and  figurative,  115; 
metapnors  embodied  in  single, 
123  ;  repeated,  134  ;  in  two  senses, 
137;  two,  in  same  sense,  137; 
numberof,  145-176  :  too  few,  146- 
148 ,  too  many,  150-168  ;  arrange- 
ment of,    177-230:   important  in 


emphatic  places,  1 84 ;  emphasis 
on  unimportant,  198;  drawback 
to  use  of,  in  description,  249 ;  tell 
a  story  better  than  pictures,  250 ; 
single  descriptive,  268-270 ;  that 
suggest  motion,  271  ;  not  subjects 
for  argument,  328  ;  question-beg- 
ging, 345.  See  Arrangement,  Bar- 
barisms, Choice  of  words,  Impropri- 
eties, Number  of  words.  Solecisms. 

Wordsworth,  William,  97,  101, 
107,  110,  117,  129,  163,  164,  165, 
170,  197,  251,  255,  259,  269. 

Work,  'I'ravel,  99. 

Works,  94. 

Would,  follows  same  rules  as  will, 
63 ;  used  to  signify  habitual  action, 
63  ;  used  to  express  a  wish,  63 ; 
examples  of  incorrect  use,  63.  See 
S/t(tl/  and  irill. 

Would  God,  6. 

Would  rather,  5. 

Wright,  Thomas,  351 

Write,  how  Franklin  and  Stevenson 
learned  to,  78-81. 

Writer,  a,  first  duty  of,  to  be  natural, 
113;  not  persuasive  when  think- 
ing of  his  style,  398. 

Writer,  the  present,  for  I,  103. 

Writing,  grammatical  jjurity  a  requi- 
site of  good,  1 ;  JNlacaulay's  rule 
of,  11  ;  inaccuracies  excusable  in 
conversation  not  excusable  in,  48. 

Writing  a  subject  to  the  dregs, 
170. 

Wrong,  94. 

Y. 

Yacht,  27. 

Yankee,  33. 

Yea,  9. 

Year's  work,  a,  50. 

Yet,  148. 

YoxGE.  Charlotte  M.,  158,  19^ 

Yore,  9. 

York's  case,  333. 

You  was.  13. 

YoLXG,  Edward,  322. 


THE     END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles                                                                          , 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 

•'"'      ''*ui?ti&y; 

'^pR  4  m 

0\SCHAAQ£-WR>- 

Vi.  -  ■ 

" 

WW  LfM'!";  '90 

OBl  2  I9» 

Form  L9-Series  444 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

AT 

LOS  ANGELES 

LIBRARY 


*2j:> 


r' 


lU. 


3   1158  00669  1264 


^ 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


AA    000  352  205    9 


